People can brag all they want to about all the hard core partying they did as a kid, or maybe they're still doin' it now, whatever! I don't even need a milkshake to bring all the action to my bedroom, nope; all I have to do is leave the damn door open and it's a full house friend, it's a FULL HOUSE and it's EVERY damn day. We have three cats and two dogs living with my daughter and I, and let me tell you, once that door opens after Laura's woken up to get ready to go to work, all of the animals who were once nestled quietly and rather lazily in her room and laying on top of her, all come over to my room where the real action is. PETTING!
Once Laura wakes up and all of the critters are stirring about, hoping to be loved on, they soon (very soon) realize that she has absolutely no time whatsoever to give them the time of day. They don't even huff or puff about it anymore, they just mosey the few steps from her room to mine, and they invade my sleeping quarters. Ginger and I have been the victims of petting parties for literally seven years! One dog comes and goes, another one takes its place. A cat up and dies on us, well, not to worry, Laura is fast about getting right back into the swing of things to be sure I am covered in fur from the moment I think about waking up until the moment she decides to go to bed.
When she enters her room (and this is quite hilarious really) Laura does a little high pitched siren song that draws out nearly every nerve in my body to the point of plugging my ears with my two index fingers. The cats, however, think this is their call for lounging about, and for the next few seconds they try and resist her calling - - only to surrender, but not nearly soon enough for me. I can deal with squeaking bagpipes all day long, but that cat call is amazingly annoying! It's a wonder her nearly 15 year old dog can still hear the calling, but he does and wherever he is at the time, he also finds his way to her room for the night. There, in the reptile-lined walls of Laura's bedroom (6 geckos, a bearded dragon, and a skink live in enclosures around her room) the animals thump their tails and demand attention -- which they are obviously satisfied with night after night, but in the morning - - the party is moved to my room.
You'd think we would be able to change up the routine a bit, maybe, Oh, I don't know, live in separate houses and I could enjoy my peace with just one dog and maybe a cat if I decided to break up the herd? Do cats come in herds? What's it called when you have too many damn cats? I know a lot of dogs is a pack, a lot of owls is a Parliament; cats should be herds. I'm calling it that because you can't really herd cats, but Laura can! It's supernatural the things she can do with animals, but she can actually herd cats with that song - - I have one talent when it comes to these vile and nasty creatures I love so dearly; I love them and that's the only thing I can do. I wish I could hurl them into the other room when they pounce and begin their insisting -- even covering up my head with my blankets isn't a good defense. We must dance the dance of flapping arms, rubbing heads and bellies, and the cooing of kissing is seemingly endless with these three! When the dogs join in there is no hope for returning to the land of slumber; we party!
Once my body is risen there is another ritual that must take place; the walking of the hound! Party time is limited to when and where the dog decides to take control of my day. Lately I've been able to squeeze in just enough time in the morning to go to the bathroom before the demands begin -- thank you for letting me be a human every now and then! I deserve a bit of ME TIME and I am so very grateful when it happens. Walking, treat giving, feeding, petting, loving, opening the back door and closing it 50 times a day, there is no end to what we do for these foul task masters with furry bodies. I am reminded of my youth when it was my chore to take the hounds to the pond to get their daily running out of their systems -- nothing changes; only addresses. Hounds still hound. Cats still CAT and they CAT all damn day and night!
One day we will all go to Heaven and it will be so very glorious to have the right to say it's MY TURN to relax and be at peace -- all dogs go to Heaven, we know this, but there is really nothing guaranteeing us that the cats will be there! Who am I trying to kid on that one? Jesus knew exactly what He was doing when he gave us the cat -- He was making us aware of our every flaw, our every insufficiency and our pride. Cats don't have owners they have staff, peasants, and we gleefully surrender while the dogs pity us and become jesters to keep us sane enough to live another day to keep them fed. It's a cycle; and not one I would care to change really - - maybe just a little bit; OK, a little tiny bit, but don't tell them I said that, they already bite my toes when it pleases them to do so. I don't need more affliction!
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