LOVE IS A FOUR-LEGGED WORD

I grew up with a dog; an apricot poodle named Count Bouche IV (that was his given name and we never thought to change it). Bouche did not understand the mechanics of lifting his leg to pee and his breath was often nasty…but my goodness we adored that dog. And I greet every dog I see with a please-can-I-take-you-home-with-me enthusiasm. I AM A DOG PERSON.

BUT I HAVE CATS…

how did this happen??

Well…it was quite by accident. The first time.

Charly arrived 42 years ago when I stumbled upon a litter of kittens in a parking lot. Who could resist that fuzzy, huggable, downy little ball of fluff?? This was an adorable, lovable, sweet kitten that I just had to keep. Not a single person bothered to remind me that it would develop into a full grown cat.

We had Charly for 19 years and she loooved my husband. He would cuddle her like a baby while she glared deeply (and menacingly) into my soul. Charly scared a lot of people. She had a reputation and it was NOT favorable. There was the episode with the wallpaper guy who tried to reenter our home after retrieving supplies from his car. Poor guy could not get past the cat. He even tracked down the police begging them to mace our kitty-cat. And we had parties where we would fail to notice a guest missing …until we heard a frantic cry of distress, “help me pleeease”. But in spite of Charly’s lack of friends and indifference towards me…I loved her.

Next came Fluffy; named by my children and chosen from a litter born on our Uncle Max’s farm. Fluffy was, well, fluffy and the perfect family cat. Our girls adored him…beautifying him with all kinds of getups, carrying him in baskets and showering him with extreme love. Most accommodating and mild-tempered was this endearing cat. He was only 13 when he departed this life; without much warning. It was a sad day for all of us and we still miss him. Best cat for a dog person EVER.

Our house seemed so quiet without a creature on board. So we hightailed it over to the Humane Society and found ourselves hauling home not one, but two kitties. And except for the person who delicately exclaimed, “oh, you’re taking the crazy one” …. we hadn’t a clue as to what we were in for.

Betsy is tall and skinny projecting a sweet, never would hurt a fly demeanor. A growl has never escaped her lips. She has never, ever attempted to sink her teeth in anybody. She lays next to me and we often fall asleep holding paw-hands. She is an angel.

However, with her strangely complex palate, this cat has eaten through every curly cord attached to our landline phones. It took us a while to figure out why those phones were out of order, but finally the proof was in the box…if you catch my drift. And those mesh bags that hold clementine’s? Loves those. She is also quite partial to jars of lotion and bottles of cologne; licking those receptacles like it’s her last meal. (Our floors and carpets are the recipients of those end results) When possessions are mysteriously knocked off balance we usually blame the other kitty, but Betsy might have us all fooled.

Lulu is our social butterfly and resident bully. This one knows how to growl and she does it with much flair. (My husband growls right back) Unlike Betsey…she is neither tall nor skinny. Okay, let’s face it – she’s FAT. And we can hear our plus sized feline approaching as she paws the floor with her robust steps. Our vet recently declared her as obese…while Lulu was sitting right there! WE were offended. My husband comes back with, “she is just big boned”. We do try our best to control her food intake. It ain’t easy. She inhales her food, gearing up for the moment when she can heave poor unsuspecting Betsy aside to scarf down her tidbits. So I began setting Betsy’s dish atop the counter where Lulu is unable to leap up to. Problem solved. Problem solved until I catch her in the act, frozen in the midst of munching…ON THE COUNTER. (kinda like me getting caught eating the cookies my husband buys and I say I don’t like). Cats are cunning and sneaky and plain dishonest. Would a dog do that? (probably…whatever!)

Yesterday I caught her munching on my toothbrush. Looking at the positive – she has terrific dental hygiene. The negative – how long has this been going on???!!

Lulu and I don’t fall asleep holding paw-hands, but in the middle of the night she gives someone the boot. Then she pressures my husband into petting her until she decides it’s over. If he doesn’t live up to his end of the bargain she affectionately takes my cheek into her mouth or pulls my hair insisting I continue with the petting routine.

When people come to visit, friends and strangers alike, Lulu is right there to greet and eavesdrop. Like I said, she is our social butterfly. With one unfortunate exception. Lulu has a vendetta against my oldest. When that daughter walks the stairs or enters a room, Lulu lashes out and growls nasty comments under her breath while lunging, pouncing and striking. And this occurs every time she comes home for a visit. All my daughter wants to do is scoop her up and love her to death. Maybe that’s the problem.  

Someone decided that our furniture and rugs needed some tweaking and that someone managed to do so with objectionably, smelly results. Thanks a lot! After recovering, tossing and cleaning we currently have material resembling silver foil garnishing the couch and concealing the area rug; while plastic sits upon the two neighboring chairs. Privileges to the first floor have been revoked – a screen slides across the bottom of the stairway blocking the way. Who is the culprit? Is it the bully or the angel? Surveillance could have outed the stinker.  

Yet I love these two and they adore ME. They follow me everywhere, cuddle with me and even sit on my lap when I am on the ‘pot’…TMI? There are tumbleweeds freewheeling across my floors. A litter box sits in my bathtub. They rule the house.

They are our entertainment as they perform their kitty ‘parkour’ all over our habitat. We are known to “meow” back and forth with them. (but wouldn’t it be great if I could teach them to sit, shake hands and speak like a dog?!) Sometimes I curse the fool who let us abscond with those felines. But I will mournfully blubber when they have finally outlived their nine lives.

Okay, okay, I admit it..this canine-person loves her felines.

“Meow” means “woof” in cat. ~George Carlin