I share my home with two big dogs and three Siamese cats: an unusual and happy family. |
The Cat Dog Mama House Is there a place for individuals whose heart races with anticipation as they unlock the entryway after returning home from a difficult day at work to be greeted by two big cold wet noses, attached to panting excitement, and floor sweeping tail wags as 80 pounds of German Shepherd and102 pounds of Lab mix rustle and tussle to be the first to say, "Hello, I sure missed you today, I love you now, and where is my dinner . . . or we could take a walk now!" Is there any creature so loyal and eager to share love as the family dog? A companion animal can bring excitement to the single type that lives alone, can create a shared special bonding for couple starting a life together, and elicit screams of delight and acrobatic wrestling play sessions for especially kids. I am an adult, but I regularly visit the floor for a doggie love in--everyone gets licks, sniffs, underside belly rugs, ear rubs, tail tugs, and I get to giggle, and squeel and play on the floor until I've been sufficienlty dog kissed and extinguished my day's stress with some good belly laughter. Learning that this love dog has unique and regular physical and emotional bebefits that a son or daughter at the appropriate stage of responsibility can fulfill, and ingrain many important life lessons. It's as easy to understand as a picture drawn by crayons. When you live it, you know it. It's not just some stuff to read in a book because you were told. Sharing a dog's life span builds a loving bond that memories won't erase, however I don't claim to have an objective opinion. At least two dogs own my heart--one blonde Lab mix named "Big Bad John" for the past 12 years, and "Shadow", his little German Shepherd sister for the past ten. If you are a dog person, you experience life from a unique perspective. Any boy, any girl, any man or woman who has known the love of their own domestic companion has a supernatural understanding about the nature of life and love. I'm not the first person to realize that dog spelled backwards is God. Whether or not there's some sort of dyslexic spiritual lesson there'll leave for your consideration. However, on the other hand, I'm a cat person also since advancinging into adulthood from my ChowChow family. In my youth when the cat who lived across the street had a litter of kittens in our garage, I watched and learned how kittens grow to cats. Felines are as haughtily independent as dogs are loyal. Loveable fluff with teeth and claws. From their historically lengthy human socialization, with a self-aware, self-groomed, furry and purry perspective, perhaps domestication has happened when the cat asserts his own option for choosing which of his selected humans may serve his needs for food, water, litter box, and socialization. Overpopulation is a problem. I have three Siamese cats who came to me from the same litter. The first year we had seventeen kittens before the spaying was performed. First the smallest of the three, a silver Siamese, "Stella", had a litter of seven kittens. Before they were moved on to homes of their own, "Angel Bella" had a litter of four. Regressing from fourteen speedy unpredictable fire kittens, "Stella" had already met with the boys in the neighborhood, and she was pregnant again. She had nine kittens under the couch. I had such a fun summer of kittens, but I won't plan that scenario again. Their brother "Fella Othelo" was the first to be neutered in early spring, when I observed the beginnings of sex play among the cats. The two Golden Flame Siamese are beautiful: pure white, excepting the gold hair on their feet nose, and tail, and exceptionally silky. As beautiful as a Golden Siamese kitten would have been, I didn't want to risk birth deformities and other associated problems. Some people say white cats are particularly prone to problems. "Fella" was born so that his sinuses drained out of his eyes. It took two different doctors before we knew what was wrong, and shots every other month to keep his eyes clear and his chin clear of acne. Whatever his physical problems were, he held the position at the top of the house totum pole. "Price Othello" would regularly return home with a gift for his family--a bird, or too often a mouse (and all but one was already dead. I was squeeling in the house that night. "Fella" ran a routine of a male cat, hunting, exploring, walking on roofs, and eating from neighbor's dinner table, I discovered this onenight when he threw up spaghetti and salad, but we hadn't had spaghetti and salad. He had at least another human friend on the block, but he was more aloof than friendly. Call your local vet, and see what they charge for a spay or neuter. Multiply that times three, and you can see that summer I socked a lot of veterinary medical expenses into their beings. At the same time I needed to be providing heartworm medicine for the dogs. I knew it, but I couldn't afford it. Feeding two large dogs and three active cats with food and litter was taking a noticable bite from my monthly monies. I adjusted, and we all are eating fine. "Fella" went on to Rainbow Bridge last summer. He was in one cat fight too many. But he made it home to the front yard before he died. That meant so much to my heart. Out of all the critters, he was most distant, but he knew where the Mama was when he was in trouble. I cried considerably, I only let "Shadow", his best playmate, smell through his sarcophagus what had happened. When she got the scent of death, she ducked her tail and sped off backwards. I had a middle of the night service in which I incinerated his body. The smoke wafted up into the trees where he used to climb, and sit on the tree throne. Outside cats generally live shorter lives than inside cats. "Stella" is an outside cat by choice. "Angel Bella" is my lap kitty. She comes to me in the late evening to tell me it's time to go to bed. After I slip between the sheets, "Angel" takes her position on the left side of the bed below the pillow. I pet her to sleep every night she choses to share my bed, and she purrs me to sleep. It's a great arrangement, except for dealing with some extra furr here and there. |