Why the kids did not get Easter baskets this year

"Hey! Look what I caught! Dinner!" 

"What? What did I do wrong? Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

 

"I thought the Easter bunny WAS the treat. I didn't know he was supposed to BRING the treats. Sigh. Being domesticated is so complicated. Is it too late to throw this in the crock pot with a bit of wine?"

The art of compromise

Holly, our dainty tabby cat, weighs all of about 7 pounds. Despite her small size, she believes in living large, which is why she is sleeping in Jacques' dog bed.

Jacques is all, "Hey, if you don't mind, I'd like to get in MY bed now," and Holly is all, "I'm in the middle of my beauty rest and not in the mood to move. Go sleep somewhere else."

After sending subtle and polite signals to persuade Holly to move, a frustrated Jacques gives a single sharp bark. Holly licks her paws, curls up even tighter, and IGNORES him. They are like an old married couple.

Jacques is resigned to not getting exactly what he wants (like that hypothetical long married couple), but he's flexible, in more ways than one, and tries to make do with Holly's bed.

*Sigh*

"I'm not sure this is going to work," Jacques says.  "I'm a dog, she's a cat! We're so different. We have almost nothing in common! I'm really not comfortable with this arrangement. I'm feeling so REPRESSED. So unloved."

But then, after repeated attempts, Jacques finds he CAN make the situation work. He not only accepts his fate, he embraces it. What he perceived as being so constrictive now has the potential to be kind of cozy. Maybe this arrangement isn't bad after all.

Learning to share. Adjusting expectations. Mastering the art of compromise. And occasionally just SUCKING IT UP.

Everything I needed to know about marriage, I learned from my DOG.

Happy Valentine's Day, y'all.

I feel like Angelina Jolie...

...because yesterday I realized that Jacques is the EIGHTH orphaned animal we've adopted: five cats, three dogs (plus one dog we purchased way back when).  The most we've ever had at one time is two dogs and two cats.

Jacques overcame my resistance to owning another dog by being 1) quiet, 2) full grown, 3) housebroken, 4) calm, 5) small, 6) short-haired, 7) OK with cats, 8) young, 9) healthy, and 10) willing to bond with all members of the family.

He also sports his own brand of cute, especially with his one-ear-up, one-ear-down look.

Check out the funky legs and the big chest. I think he's mostly corgi with some beagle mixed in. He has the corgi head and body, but with longer legs and spots like a beagle.

BTW, that's a bathrobe sash tied around his neck. It acted as a combination collar and leash his first night with us.

In this one, his eyes are getting heavy after a long walk. He looks a bit like my dog, Jenny, a mixed breed who shared our house and hearts for 18 years.

Asleep in his new bed (with the tag still on it!). I haven't weighed him yet, but I'm guessing he's about 20 pounds.

 

I should have seen him coming

I'm an animal lover. While I grew up with pets that lived outside, as soon as I became an adult, I welcomed animals into my home. It all started with the gerbil that I kept hidden in my dorm room in college. Other students had far more interesting (*cough, cough*) forms of contraband, but being a soft-hearted, nerdy grrrl, I limited my rebellious pursuits to illegal rodents.

When the Man and I married, we made our home with dogs and cats, some of them strays that wandered into our lives, others ones we adopted from animal shelters or rescue groups. For most of our life together, we've always had dogs and cats, but in recent years, we've just had cats.

Cats are ideal pets in so many ways. They're so low maintenance. They don't demand too much attention, they're quiet, you can go away for a weekend and leave them alone in the house. As much as I'd loved my dogs, I couldn't deny that being a dog owner was far more demanding of our time, energy, and financial resources.

The Man and I agreed that we were now Cat People and might never own a dog again.

But then right before Thanksgiving, the Man came home from work with a flyer describing a young beagle pup that had been abandoned on a highway near D.C. The family fostering her said she was smart, calm, and nearly housetrained. The photo showed she was also beautiful with soulful lemon drop eyes.

The Man shocked me by saying that maybe we should check on this dog. What?! What?!!! Had he forgotten we had a Plan and that Plan did not include a dog, let alone a puppy!

All through dinner, I kept glancing at the flyer. I was becoming hypnotized by the dog's expressive eyes, my heart softening. When I realized what was happening, I forced myself to snap out of the trance I was falling into and throw the flyer away. My kids, who had been discussing names for the dog, were so disappointed.

They're animal lovers too and have a pet care business in our neighborhood. I reminded them that they handled dogs every day and did not need one of their own. We are, after all, Cat People, I said.

Then over Christmas break, the kids were dogsitting the two gigantic golden retrievers that they normally just care for after school. The kids visited the dogs in their home three times a day, exercising and feeding them and giving them some attention. As Christmas neared, I felt sad that the dogs were separated from their family, and on impulse, I suggested the kids bring the dogs down to our house to hang out with us on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

These are huge dogs. The biggest goldens I have ever seen. The moment they came through my door, the house seemed smaller. I nicknamed them the Ponies because of their massive size and pull. The Ponies were so EXCITED to join us for the holidays that they galloped in circles around the interior of the house, terrorizing the cats with their enthusiasm. Finally they settled down and blended right into our family like perfect canine guests. For two days we were Dog People again, and it felt so natural. I should have known what would happen next.

Yesterday, the kids came home from tending the Ponies with another dog in tow. It was following them, they said. They had never seen it in our neighborhood.

"Leave that dog alone! He belongs to someone! Don't put him on a leash, he needs to go home!"

The dog would not budge from our deck.

I told the Boy to take the dog around the neighborhood and see if he could find its owners. My kids know all the dogs (and dog walkers) in the neighborhood because of their jobs.

Meanwhile, I contacted Animal Control and the SPCA to see if anyone had reported a missing dog matching its description. I checked Craig's List and the classifieds for ads on missing dogs. No luck.

Soon the Boy returned with stories of how other people in the neighborhood had seen this dog over the last few days. He had been cared for by one family for two nights, examined by another kind couple up the road who were already fostering other strays, and then just been set loose again. One of my son's friends had seen someone push a dog out of a car and abandon it near the entrance to our neighborhood not too long ago. We're not sure if it's the same dog.

Meanwhile, even though we are (*cough, cough*) Cat People, we were not going to leave a dog outdoors in this brutal weather, and so we brought him inside. And fed him. And named him Jacques.

He slept with the Boy last night and had scrambled eggs for breakfast.

Y'all already know how this story is going to end, don't you?

There will be  trip to the store today to buy a collar and food. An appointment with the vet if he isn't claimed by the end of the week. And appointments for the cats with an animal psychologist, who will help them deal with their fears, resentment, and sense of BETRAYAL.

Stay tuned.