the one about my pets

I have never felt that my house is a home unless I have some dogs and some cats. Right now I three of each and they are so totally different, they do not seem to fall within acceptable animal categories. There’s got to be a more detailed and definitive category than canine or feline.

I’ve had Big Head the longest. He’s just a white and gray tabby looking cat. Big, He is big. He originally lived with me and my 19 windows draped with miles of lace. It was him or the curtains, so I had him declawed ( which I would never ever do to another animal as long as I live. It is just inhumane) and fixed, planning on keeping him the house.

Only Big Head doesn’t LIKE the house. He is outside all the time. He hunts and he fights and if he had claws and testosterone, there would be a lot more dead cats in the neighborhood. My particular car is the one he likes to sleep on. (Did I mention that I would never declaw a cat again.

It wasn’t worth my curtains….although he is so aggressive, he does dish it out and often. I’ve seen him go after cats and big dogs and it seems like his handicap is the only thing that keeps him from eviscerating other animals.

Baby is a slender gray cat. Most of her teeth have fallen out and she has trouble keeping her tongue inside her mouth. She is one of those shadow cats, who like to run under things/cars and loves to huddle under lawn furniture. She loves to eat and be petted and then left alone. Knowing I’m home is more than enough human contact for her.

Butter is an enormously fat orange tabby ….younger than these two. She is so big, she must be some alien strain of feline. She has yet to learn that there will always be food in the bowls. She sees me come out to the porch and starts with the querulous meowing. She is trying to get into the top two of this three cat family, but Baby and Bighead grew up together and aren’t willing to actually include Butter in the bunch.

The dogs are fascinated by these three. They spend most of their time rushing from window to window to watch them, like dog porn.

I tolerate cats but I truly love my dogs. Gentle hearts and courageous, eager to please and loyal.

I’ve had TANK the longest of these three. He is a rottweiler/Chihuahua mix and has a brave chi personality. He’s smart and so sweet matured that it is odd to know that he would just as soon rip you apart as look at you if you were knocking on my door without permission or expectation. And I like that because i don;t like total strangers walking up my drive.

He and I took about six months worth of doggy boot camp and he is a joy to work with. He is very smart and obedient, as well as playful. Tank has the shiniest black and tan coat and we had to put up extra high fences because he would launch his 180 pounds over our regular fences and then race up and down the road like a greyhound. And he is loving and devoted….when I’m at home, I have a shadow. If I’m sick, he can sense how crummy I am and spend his day on sentry duty. In fact, sometimes I don’t even know how crummy I feel until I find him at my feet or stretched out beside me.

Then there is Rocket. She’s a Maltese and, I think, a retarded wee bit developmentally delayed.. She knows her name. She’s housebroken. She likes to play and is affectionate. Smart, she is not.

She like one kind of doggie cookies and will turn down the others. Sometimes she comes over to beg for her cookie and when we try to give her her special one, she will hop back, stick her nose in the air and stomp off, acting as if we were attempting to feed her cat shit.

Sometimes she want her cookie from you hand, as she does a little dance. Sometimes she wants you to toss it at her so she can pounce on them. She likes to sleep in holes in the front yard and watch the cars go by. She likes to pretend to chase the mailman by barking at him until he gets back into his truck.
She usually can squeeze through the ornamental openings in the fencing by she has gotten a wee bit fat lately. She likes to sit under the furniture and watch. If I lie down on the floor and drag out a quilt, she is totally happy to burrow under the covers. She weighs…oh, maybe 3 pounds and is about the size of a pay phone receiver.

Then there is Jackie. He is a very tiny poodle/spaniel mix with a little terrier. He and Rocket are the same champagne color and he will gnaw on any ear or leg until one of the other dogs will come play. He has a stubby little tail that is the barometer to his sunny personality. Loves to play, very smart (he picked up most of his behaviors from the other dogs, who are hand trained). He has a wee bit of hip displacia, so when he runs, he looks like he is skipping. If I keep his weight down and this activity up and give him St. Joseph’s for any hip pain, I think he’ll live a pretty pain free life.

I spend at least an hour, running them thru their paces every night. Then, when I’m living my real life, they are a constant presence, following me from room to room. And then, of course, when I drive home at night, it is like I am Miss America, the Queen, and Elizabeth Taylor….she’s here! She’s here she’s here she’s here!!

Pretty heady stuff for a woman who spends her days with a bunch of guys who entertain themselves with plans to knock me on the head, murder me and then escape. It’s not a bad trade.

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