Jackie Wells-Fauth
I am about to make a confession which I know will make me unpopular among many of my friends and family. But here it goes: I am not a “dog person”. I am also not a “cat person”. In fact, I am not a “gerbil, goldfish, house pig or any other pet animal you can name…person.”
Having said that, I must then tell you that we have both a cat and a dog. We have had several cats over the years, mostly by accident, but the dog, a hunting Golden Retriever, was definitely on purpose. That dog walked in the door, we looked at one another and I said, “To be clear on this, I don’t hunt, and I don’t like dogs, but if you stay out of my way, I won’t accidentally lose your dog treats.”
The dog has learned the fine art of annoying the lady of the house without pushing things too far. It helps that her master is very much a “dog person” and in addition to that, he loves to hunt, and she is good at that.
“Look what that stupid dog did,” I come out to the deck where Roy is sitting petting the dog.
“Now what?” He’s heard this whining all too often.
“She chewed up more of my socks!” I hold up a sock with large holes in the side. “How come she always goes after my socks?”
“That’s because she likes the taste of rancid foot odor and also, I hide my socks,” he answered, while the dog relaxed, knowing she was being defended and undoubtedly planning to chew up my slippers next.
So, the dog is pretty comfortable in life and knows that she is the top (another name for a female dog) in the house and I rank second by the same name.
I did not pass this distaste for animals on to my children. My older daughter has two cats and a dog, and my younger daughter has two cats, all of which are just an extension of the grandchildren. Whenever my dog and cat see my daughters and families, they run for them, knowing they are about to be pampered, at least for the duration of the visit.
My older daughter has kept my dog on several occasions, so when they recently decided that their dog would not be comfortable on their camping trip, they asked if we would keep Cora (their dog) for a week or so. Of course we would be happy to, but I always envision Cora’s reaction, while my daughter was on the phone, asking us to dog sit.
“Yes, we would be so grateful if Cora could come to your house for a week,” she would be saying, while Cora was sitting on the floor beside her (or more likely in her lap) looking totally horrified.
When Cora walked in the door, Josie (our dog) stood looking at her for a long time. I know Josie was thinking, “I wonder what this dog did to be condemned to doggie prison.”
Cora has adjusted quite well to the fact that I won’t let her sit in my chair or on my lap. She hangs out with Roy a lot, instinctively recognizing an authentic dog person, but since Josie is kind of territorial, she has to share Roy, which is hard for her–the queen of dogs at her own house. She has no little boys or loving adults to share her days with, but Josie’s dad is taking her for walks, so she’s grateful for that.
Now, for all of you out there who stand ready to call the Humane Society, I maintain that Cora (and Josie) are being well looked after, fed and fluffed by the one dog lover in the house. They are intelligent animals, so when I walk in the room, they generally leave it and that’s okay. Cora only goes out for potty breaks if Roy takes her, and I am not offended by that. After all, the dog is smart enough to know who her friends are, who am I to complain?
Now, I could not ever harm a living creature, but I do know that domesticated animals are probably not for me. I think that if I’m going to have a pet, I would like a wild squirrel. That way, I could be assured that it would quickly run away from home!
Hang in there, Cora, only two more days to go!
dropsinthewell 