My white Boxer is sitting behind me, attempting to drive me out of my mind with her low, insistent whine. I know what you’re thinking – she needs to be let out. No she doesn’t. She’s been let out. She’s been let out numerous times this morning alone. She also has a full bowl of food and water. As I leave this blog momentarily, to root out the nefarious cause of her troubles, I will most likely discover my other dog sleeping on the Boxer’s bed. This simple act of trespassing seems to cause a great deal of turmoil within my Boxer’s mind. But these animals aren’t just fussy, they are also diabolical.
I know my Boxer won’t curl onto her already warmed bed once I've unearthed it from under my English Setter. The fact is, it bothered her that he had the audacity to claim it as his own. So, she wanted him removed. I suppose I wouldn’t like it if someone else were found sleeping on my bed, but for the love of God, these are dogs we are talking about.
But my dogs use parts of their brains that humans can’t. Such as, when they are outside, they know when I sit down - inside. When I do, they start barking at the door wanting to be let in. It must be a sonar thing. Can you imagine if I showed up on your doorstep each and every time you plunked yourself down on the sofa?
I’ve always been a dog person. But to appease my daughter, we’ve also taken in a cat and a guinea pig. These adoptions were done after lengthy discussions in which she vowed acceptance of the duties with a sincere face that would’ve fooled Christ. Cleaning of the cage, numerous feedings, brushings and of course the scooping of the litter – all challenges that were met with a vow to do them daily. But like a politician’s promises, my daughter's vows went out the window within a week after getting what she wanted.
As I stumble into the kitchen every morning to fill my coffee cup, I’m met with the squeals of a guinea pig begging for his morning cherry tomato. And like a good servant, I faithfully open the fridge (the sound of which amps up his squeals). I hold the cherry tomato into his cage for him to grab. As I head back to the kitchen the cat buzzes in front of my shuffling feet – obviously wanting to play. I scratch her head, she purrs. I continue on with my travels, she wraps her strong arms around my leg.
The cat is without a doubt the more sinister of the group. She often jumps out from around the corner, arms and legs spread wide, her fluffy black and white body zooming two feet off the floor in front of me. It may sound sweet but I can assure you, at 2am when you are investigating a noise, her sudden appearance is enough to cause a heart attack. One morning I rounded the corner to find her sitting next to the coffee maker. It only took a few days for her to figure out my routine. She also likes to show her genuine affection by zig-zagging in front of me as I descend the stairs. This makes for a fun time – for her. I keep telling her that if I fall and kill myself, there’ll be no one to buy her kibble. She doesn’t care.
So here I sit, my Setter to my right, gnawing on his legs. It seems another week has past wherein I’ve forgotten to pick up his mood altering medication the Vet prescribed. Apparently, my Setter enjoys gnawing too much; and in doing so, nearly chews all the hair off his legs. The Vet assured me it’s common with anxious breeds. My Boxer has most likely curled herself onto her bed by now; she is after all still recovering from a strained ACL. For the last ten days her pills have been ground in the pestle, and snuck into her food. The guinea pig, thankfully, is content eating his alfalfa. And then there’s the cat. Yesterday my son reported finding half a mouse on the basement floor. We don’t know where the other half is. No doubt, one of these furry jokesters took off with it, but no one’s talking. Most likely the cat left it behind as a reminder that she earns her keep around here.
Yes, I have a zoo. But they don’t lie. They don’t judge. Their eyes hold only sincerity as they look at me and my children. In many ways, their energy (even the cat), helps to balance out an otherwise unsettling world.
Sane
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