I admit, I have a mad adoration for the four-legged domestic furbabies. Dogs, I adore. They're loyal and snurfly and cute and they love to run and jump and play and a good scritch and a snuzzle and they're friends for life with the good people of the world.
I don't limit my love to the canines, I usually fawn over felines as much as I cuddly the canines. For the first time ever, a critter has moved in that seems to loathe me as much as catterly possible.
Maddy, whom you've met already and know as The Mad Catter, is just a bit.... special, if you know what I mean.
Let me illustrate with a recent episode, eh? I'm not sure if our beloved Pharaoh or if Maddy started it, but I walked in on quite a scene...
I walked into the laundry room and Jack had his head buried in the cat box, which is a Boda Dome - for those who aren't familiar, it's a covered litter box that looks a lot like an igloo. The cats were both primly sitting on the dryer, watching Jack snurfle through the litter (I assume that's what Jack was doing anyway, his head and shoulders were buried in the litter box and I heard badness occurring under the dome). I can't decide if the cats were egging Jack on, or if they were just observing in frustration... but the general feeling as I walked in was:
Pharaoh: "I told you he'd stick his head in there."
Maddy: "Dogs really do eat shit. That is effin' insane. Unbelievable. And he does this every time???"
Pharaoh: "Well, sure, until the humans catch hi- AAAHHH!"
The AAAHHH is when I opened the door to the laundry room. I have NEVER seen animals vacate an area so quickly. Jack "scooby-doo'd" his way out the door, all four paws sliding over the laminate flooring, desperately hoping to escape before I figured out what he was up to. The cats made space shuttle launches look tame with their take off from the top of the dryer.
Yanno, I wasn't even remotely upset when I walked in, but it was like guilty six year olds running off after taking extra cookies from the cookie jar. Or frat boys when the cops show up. Or Brittany Spears facing someone with a camera.....
Anyway, after a moment of staring wide eyed at the empty laundry room, I banished Jack to his kennel. It was almost a waste of breath, since he was heading there anyway. He KNOWS better, but somehow cannot resist the allure of crunchy turds. He ran for his kennel and promply hung his head, then realized THAT wasn't getting him out of trouble, so he rolled to his back and went belly up. *sigh I always wanna cave when he does that super-submissive thing, and I was sorta softening, starting to laugh about the whole "reminds me of a busted frat party" situation when an angry, poofy, gray thing attempted to embed itself in my calf.
The Mad Catter decided I needed to lose a leg.
Maddy bit and clawed as hard as possible and I Freaked. Out. The bite/attack/gray whirlwind wasn't a reaction to me wandering inside and scaring them - well, obviously it was PART of that - but the cat had time for me to walk through the house, look at the dog in his kennel while he rolled over, close the door to the kennel and turn to Jase, laughing.
This attack, my friends, was plotted, planned and executed by the cat. Sure, it wasn't well thought out, because the cat wound up flying across the room (I react poorly to creatures sampling my flavor without permission). But even in his adrenaline pumped state, he had to have some kind of thought process about taking me out of the equation.
I do not advocate being mean to ANY creature - no matter how batshit insane it might be, unless it's a human or an insect. Even then, I often feel kinda bad about the bugs. Cats who bite me? They can suck wind.
Yes, I startled Maddy - but the cat's scared me out of a dead sleep several times (he's watched me sleep and did this weird "heavy breathing" thing in my ear. Fer reals the cat sniffs SO loudly, it's creepy. He snores too, but that's cute, not creepy.... anyway - when I woke up, freaked out about stalkers and such, I didn't kill the cat or skin it or whack it or sell it to some cat-needing farm lady who has mice in her barn or whatever.
Yet I startle the cat and it decides to sample me, a la carte or something.
Boo, kitty. Boo. SO! Maddy needs a new home. Bite me once when I startle you - I get that, is understandable. My bad! Specially when the chomp came when I clutched the kitty closer when something scared me. Bite me the second time about a minute AFTER I startle you? Fuck off, cat. We're obviously not compatible.
To further the Non-Compatibility-Assessment, I was fussing with my hair int he bathroom and he jumps up on the counter and starts rubbing on my arms and waist. I thought "Hey! Possibly a truce!" Silly me. It was a luuuure and I feel for it. I let him sniff my hand, rubbed his face, scritched his ear, and he flopped over and tried to eat my ARM, though he didn't land any teeth that time, just claws. I had a spastic moment where I literally had to walk away before I actually HURT an animal on purpose for the first time in my life.
SO - Maddy is here, and I hope his mama finds a pet friendly apartment soon. I also hope some animal psychologist can someday explain why the cat curls up around my legs at night but tries to kill me during the day. I like sinking my teeth into a good steak, but you dont' see me cuddling cows at night, yanno?
In other random news, Abby has come to stay with us for a week or so. I was originally under the impression that Abby was a French Bulldog, but I've since changed my opinion. I'm fairly certain Abby is a Star Wars extra. I can't decide if she's Yoda or the Sarlacc (depends on if she's curious or looking at me with her mouth open.) She snorts and grunts and occasionally screams. I loathe the screaming, but luckily we've ended most of that now... She snurfles and snuffles and slurps and it's rather odd to have so many doggie noises in teh house after having a husky for so long. Jack is darn quiet compared to Abby's lifestyle!
The snoring was a surprise - yet should not have been. I mean, the dog has its nose smooshed into its head, so she obviously has issues breathing. Why wouldn't she snore?? At night, her snores rival anything else I've ever heard. Jase thought it was ME at first, and I'm somewhat horrified to consider that I've sounded
that snore-y while I was sleeping. Of course, I thought it was Jase at first, but when we realized it was the dog, it was amusing.
Abby snores every night. Jase, I can poke and he rolls over and stops. I assume he has similar tricks for me on the rare occasion a snore makes it through his Sailor Sleep (for the record, sailors sleep through ANYTHING except General Quarters. Kinda like yelling "CODE BLUE! ROOM 113! STAT!!!" for an intern sleeping on a cot near the ER). The dog we cannot poke or prod or anything... I mean, she's sleeping and seven months! Who wakes up sleeping puppies, even if they're snoring loud enough to wake neighbors?
Me.
I admit, after 30 body-rattling snores, I nudge her or call her name. It unsettles her enough that she shifts and drifts back to sleep, sans snores. Thank goodness. And yes, I could her snores once they wake me up. Most of the time, she snores about 10 times and then wakes herself up with it, so no intervention needed on my part!
Abby is also a bit of a foodie. She likes her chicken sauteed and her edamame steamed. She likes her dinner warm and her breakfast cold. The first day or two I was actually pretty concerned about her eating - Abby's mom let us know she's finicky and has issues with some foods, so she brought over enough food to feed a small army for a week and a small dog through the apocalypse. Ok, it wasn't THAT much, but close!
After a day or so, I finally caved and quit stresing so much about Abby's meals. It was a LOT easier once I started doing my own thing - afterall a dog will NOT allow itself to starve if it's healthy, and by all accounts, Abby is healthy and happy for a french puppy bulldog. It matters not that she looks like a star wars extra. She gets a scoop o' dry food in the morning, a soup bone to gnaw on throughout the day, and a scoop o' dry food with chicken and edamame in the evening. She seems pretty pleased overall, but doesn't like waiting past 6pm for dinner. On that score, I can't blame her.
She's used to being "in charge" in her house, I think. I haven't seen her with her parents very often, but from the food issues they described (and the warnings that Abby will want to shower or bathe with us if given the opportunity), I think she pretty much has run of the house. While on one hand, kudos to puppy parents for being accommodating. On the other, I truly believe dogs need leadership from people. Dogs have pack instincts and if there isn't a clear leader who makes solid decisions and sticks by them, the dog will step up and assume that role in his or her own way.
Once Abby figured out who was in charge, she's been doing much better. She still pushes (a LOT) but she knows when I mean business and she knows more of the routine. She's sweet and smart and a bit sassy. She loves cuddles and knows she has to keep her bone on her blanket now and she doesn't mind hanging out in her kennel when it's not safe for her to meander around the house, like when we're not home or when I'm cooking. She's figuring out what "Sit" and "No!" and "Blanket" and "Leave It!" and "Down!" all mean. Abby is definitely not fond of following the "Blanket" command when she thinks Jack may have a better treat than she's got - but she's getting the hang of staying on her blanket when she has something to eat outside of "normal" eating hours.
Considering our society, it doesn't surprise me that people equate being "in charge" of their dogs with almost being mean to them. A lot of people believe if they don't pamper their dogs, the dogs won't love them somehow.
Reality: Dogs LOVE good people. They may not always respect good people... but they're awesome souls and will love you, period. You had a bad day? They're there for you. You had a great day? They're happy for you! You came home??? They're SO FREAKIN HAPPY TO SEE YOU!
People aren't that supportive of their own species, yanno?
I think a dog with a loving, but firm owner feels safe and knows the limits. Their behavior improves, their outlook improves because they know what they have to do within their routine that allows them to have a Great Freakin Day. They also know that Mom or Dad will do What's Best. They trust us human-types - and I like to hope that's usually that's for the best.
If a dog doesn't trust you, he might eat something he shouldn't and not listen when you tell him to leave it, or he might not take medicine he needs because he doesn't respect your judgment. She might freak out when you have to remove a tick or a splinter. She may resist basic grooming because she' doesn't know you're doing what is best for her. I think it's so so critical for your dog to trust that you will do the right thing for him so when you HAVE to do something a bit uncomfortable, the dog will feel better with you doing it. "If Mom is doing this for me, it must be for the best, even if this is weird!"
Kinda like having your Mom put a bandaid on a booboo when you're little, rather than your best friend play doctor. Your bestie doing it is still ok... but it's not the same as when Mom does it. Lots of times there's a bit of doubt if it's all REALLY ok when the friend puts on the bandaid, because Mom always makes it better, right?
I know Jack regularly tests his limits - and I think Abby may do that in her home as well. I don't think that's a BAD thing by any means - it reaffirms their place in the home and their trust in our decision making. Too bad it's not that easy when dealing with other people, eh?
