Cats and Dogs

When I was a little girl I used to think kittens were girls and puppies were boys and of course, girls should have kittens while the boys had a pup. Probably culled from the first grade reader where Jane had Puff and Dick had Spot.

I was 10 when we got our first pet, a kitten we named “Meese” (kitten in Danish). I came home one noon hour, after Meese had been missing overnight, to find him dead, poisoned by some neighbor. I was terribly upset and cried myself sick after we buried him in the back yard. We didn’t get another pet until I was 19, at which point my brother Ole got a German shepherd pup named Busser. We only had Busser for about 8 months as we weren’t able to train him to go outside when nature called. Mom couldn’t handle the mess and was adamant about not being the caregiver.

We had better success when I was about 27 and Charlotte got her pup Tara. I stole her by the subtle means of saying that as I took Tara for her walks and was the one she preferred sleeping with Tara was really mine. Tara was a pup from the first Jack Russell litter in Alberta (or so we were told anyway) and we just loved her to death. This time the whole family was agreed on keeping her, even Mom, and we had her for 16 years. She was raped by a border collie when she was about 3 years old and that was a lot more traumatic on her owners than on her.

I should tell the story of Tara’s impregnation. A few relevant points, I am extremely near sighted to start with, I had never been near a farm nor had I ever seen critters copulating. Added to this handicap was my father’s admonition every time Tara went into heat, “Don’t let her out as dogs will smell her from miles around and even jump fences to get at a dog in heat.” Alright, I got that very well. What I didn’t realize was that the female dog was just as eager to get the action as the male dog. So one morning I let Tara out into our very large back yard and after waiting some time I went out to look for her. It was a half acre lot so it was a bit of a walk. There was Tara, hanging behind a gigantic border collie and I was so shocked and upset that I commenced to scream. Naturally the rapist was alarmed enough to walk away, with poor Tara dragged along in the very compromising position she was in. A neighbor came running from across the street to see what the commotion was all about and left laughing his fool head off. Meanwhile I was in a quandary as to what to do, did I pull Tara off? I didn’t know if she would get injured and as I was wondering the wretched beast was moving further along into the field and my poor baby was going with her, looking extremely foolish I might add, knowing she was in deep kaka with me. At this point the rest of the family was out in the back yard and as though I wasn’t in enough distress I was now in deep kaka with my dear old dad. How was I to know that Tara was a wanton hussy who had her boyfriend hidden behind the fence and was just panting to rendezvous? I never dreamt she could be so sneaky! I thought they would be wild and crazy, not lurking around like a teenager!

The result was that I got Betsy who was definitely my dog. Betsy was with me for 14 years.

Once I got my own place I was THE place for stray cats, and that is actually a story for another time. But suffice to say that my heart is big enough to adore both cats and dogs. Both have their own winning personalities. The two cats who are my companions now are 7 year old neutered males that were born in my bed. They are complete babies and behave like clinging vines when I come home from work. They hang over my shoulder, grasping me around the neck just like a little kid and my heart melts. Their understanding isn’t as sharp as Bob’s (mom’s Jack Russell) but they certainly have a vocabulary that they respond to, such as “breakfast” “out to play” and “who has the toy”.

For me there is no choice, I’d take both in a heartbeat.