I do a lot of overnight pet sitting. One evening, I had an avocado with dinner. I set the avocado pit on the counter. The next morning, I woke up, started coffee and noticed one of the dachshunds had the avocado pit in her mouth. She was chomping and crunching on it. I tried to get her to give it to me. She thought it was a game and ran around the house with it in her mouth. I kept telling her to give it to me and then pried her mouth open and pulled it out. I thought it seemed a bit "mushy," but figured she had just been chewing on it for awhile. Imagine my dismay (and horror!) when I realized it was a rat's HEAD! I am still grossed out!!
I frequently sit for 2 big, adorable Rottweilers named Dalton and Shiloh. Last night, I woke up at 3 in the morning and decided to check my email on my iPhone. The battery was dead, so I took the phone into the garage to plug it into my car charger. The door shut behind me. Crap! I was locked out! I tried to think of everything I could do. I went around the back and the only way in was the dog door. Unfortunately, there was a 5 ft. wrought iron fence surrounding the patio. I went back into the garage, got a ladder and drug it to the back yard. (Note: Someone was looking out for me becauseI was A. Not nude and B. There were no lights on for the neighbors to watch the spectacle.) I climbed up the ladder and had to jump down onto the patio. I tried to put my head and shoulders into the doggie door and couldn't get through. Double crap! I decided to try a different tack and start feet first. I put my legs in and inched my way into the opening. (The dogs were having a wonderful time. They thought it was some sort of game.) Anyway, I crept my way in and then got to my ginormous boobs and had to squish them through -- one at a time. I finally made it all the way through -- much to the dogs' delight!
I love animals. All animals. When I hear a story about 10 orphans and a dog getting hit by a train, my first thought is, “What happened to the dog?”
I have 3 cats I adore. Nelson is “The Baby.” Nelson has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He worries about everything. You can see the concerned look on his face all the time. He frets about the state of the world. He can manipulate my husband with his meows. He is a ventriloquist. He can stare at Steve and throw his plaintive cry without moving his mouth. Steve is putty in his hands. Nelson sees Daddy and starts screaming like someone stuck a skewer through him --- just because he hasn’t had a treat in over 3 hours. When my uncle Dwain comes over, Nelson knows he is a “fish,” and runs to the pantry door screaming for a Bonker. Nelson is pristine --- spending hours grooming and preening himself. He can spend 20 minutes tugging at a toenail cleaning “something,” out of there. I guess with all the tar pits in our home, he can get filthy.
Arthur is the casual dude. Nothing fazes him. He rarely meows --- why would he? Everything is cool. He casually accepts any dry food put in front of him. He casually eats little bits of something or other off the floor. If you could see inside his stomach, I am sure it would look like the inside of a vacuum cleaner bag. Lint, cat hair, a button. Maybe a guitar pick. Or a paper clip and a few Trident wrappers. No worries. Everything is fine in Arthur’s life, so no reason to complain. We adore Arthur.
Then, there is Howard. Howard is kind of………..well how can a mother put it nicely? Howard is a jerk. If cats went to school, Howard would’ve been the cat you beat up on the bus. Howard would be the guy running on his tiptoes with the pocket protector and a briefcase. Howard would be the class tattletale. Howard is the cat who makes up to us and then leaves a “present” for us at the base of the stairs or in front of the door. Howard will get on your chest, start purring and then sneeze on your glasses. He will eat something nasty and then lick you on the mouth. If you are sorting the laundry, he will poop on your clothes. He is repulsive. He stopped grooming himself a year or 2 ago. He has too much going on during the day to be bothered. We adopted Howard when he was a tiny little kitten. He was so cute and so sweet. He was loved and adored. We sent out pictures of him on our Christmas cards. I stayed home with him. I read to him (OK, so I didn’t), but what on earth did we do to deserve Howard?? Despite his “disgustingness,” I am still his mom and I love him. Sorta.