Furry Roomies20:04 Mar 09 2008
Times Read: 1,743
Morri writes about the urge to have pets...or animal friends, as she prefers. I understand the term, because none of the animals I have shared a home with ever felt particulary "owned" to me. More like I own the responsibility when they mess up something and share in the sweetnesses they usually provide. But she got me thinking about the process...how did I come to have these furry aliens in my home?
We met Meatball about 6 years ago now. He was lost and nosing through trash. He's a lovely collie-looking fella that makes you think, "awwww Lassie needs a hand." We took him in and began getting him cleaned up and fed. He was obviously someone's pet...well-behaved indoors and appreciative of affection. He was covered in ticks which...ewwwww! If there is anything worse than trying to remove ticks from a thickly-coated dog, I can't think of it.
We had no dog food and since we were having spaghetti that night, he shared our dinner, forever becoming "Meatball" for us. We made signs and tacked them up everywhere. Nobody responded. Two weeks later, when we realized nobody was likely to claim him, we became concerned about his persistent cough. I took him to the vet who diagnosed him with progressive heartworms. It was a death sentence for a stray. But by this point, we loved him. He became our $1000.00 free dog.
We had to keep him completely still. He was still puppyish at an estimated 1 year old. The medicine made him terribly sick as it poisoned the worms inside him. But our guy made it through. He is the kind of doggy that herds you wherever you should be, lies at your feet, and cries when you leave. He wants nothing more than to be EVERYWHERE you are.
He catches frisbees, has eaten a loaf of bread carelessly left on the counter, knows the word, "outside," would sell me for the chance to catch a cheerio in his mouth, will bark at you if you threaten me or my girls, isn't happy until he catches a skateboard and kills it - wheels up, and will NOT eat a Cheetoh even if you hide it inside food he loves, begging the question, What's in a cheetoh?! I mean, he doesn't have a very discriminating palate...he licks his own butt and prefers a freshly flushed potty over a water dish. I am now incredibly suspicious of the Cheetoh.
One of my favorite things about him, though, is his all-encompassing desire to please. If you place a favorite treat in front of him and calmly say, "stay," you can walk out of the room and do other things. When you come back, he will be covered in drool, but that treat will be there until you say, "ok, you can have it." I know the second I walk in the door if he's been naughty. He will stand back, head lowered, as if to say, "I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it and now you're gonna fuss. I knew this was coming and stressed all day. I'm a bad boy." I glance at him and say, "Ok, what did you do? Where is it?" Invariably, I find the empty bread sack. My dog is a carb-loader. You don't leave bread or cookies down any more than you'd leave a bottle of booze in the house with an alcoholic.
He's a great dog. One time we went on vacation and the neighbor girl we paid to look in on him forgot. We'd left plenty of food and water, but he never got to go outside. This dog actually peed in duplo blocks and on a towel in the bathroom. How do I interpret that other than that he wanted not to pee the carpet? His waste was also in the bathroom. Too bad he can't reach the potty...but since he can't flush, he'd probably decide that going in his water bowl was nasty.
I love this awesome ball of fur I get the privilege of knowing.
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The cat is the devil.
I mean that literally. I am convinced that the cat wants my soul. She will likely suck it from my nose while I'm sleeping.
She entered our lives during a rare weak moment on my part. You may have guessed by the tone change that I am not a cat person. I have met cat people. I am not one.
Our lives changed in my family last year due to a sad event. My oldest daughter looked at me like only a kid can..."Mom, you know what would bring us closer together as a family? A kitten." *blink blink* I usually wear armor well suited against such attacks. But I was ambushed by a relative's litter of kittens and a child's lovely big eyes blinking at my guilty conscience. Enter Savoir Faire, "Savvy" to her minions.
Something is not right about this creature. Since kittenhood, she has liked to hang upside down. I mean that she will wriggle in your arms until all that you have are her haunches and she stretches her paws and dangles that way. She is also perfectly happy to drape around your neck like a stoll. Her bread is definitely not all the way baked.
I have learned to walk through my home with care. I do not know from where or when the attack will occur, but it WILL come. I am grateful that she saves me cardiology money, though. I need no heart tests as I learned on the day she leapt on me from the curtain rod and I didn't die.
I am further grateful that she has allowed me to continue living here. As long as I accept that all the furniture is hers and my hands belong to her, we are ok. If she paid the bills, I'd swear I was her pet. In fact, lately, I've started thinking I may be the indentured servant and she is the overlord exacting taxes. I work...she luxuriates.
The dog looks at me as she eats the first bites of his food before moving to her catfood dish, just because she can. I look back at him and say, "What? I just live here...I'm open for suggestions." I'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes when he thought I wasn't looking. But we both have a good cuddle while she eats the cheetohs we toss to her.
COMMENTS
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Ockham
23:34 Mar 31 2008
That is really fascinating. I love getting to read your works and hearing the stories behind them makes them all the more impressive, I think :)