Hello Larry

A recent study suggests that dog owners are generally happier than cat owners.  Himself, having been raised at a kennel, considers himself a dog person.  I’ve always had both but am a sucker for an aloof cat condescending to give a bit of cuddly affection so, while it’s a bit of Sophie’s Choice, I consider myself more of a cat lady than a dog person.  There were about five cats on Morton Walk when I first met Himself.  He posits sometimes about how many cats I would have if he hadn’t married me.

The pets however do not buy into how we characterize ourselves.  The cats inevitably prefer Himself.  Opie the dog is loyal to me.  She will not walk with Himself or get into his car.  When I am gone, she mopes on the couch, staring out the window that faces the driveway.

Opie has not adjusted one bit to my current schedule.  When I started teaching evenings, there was a real setback.  At least, we’d have a morning walk and then she’d accompany me to the office and there’d be a second walk through Silver Lake, late morning.  Now I work from home.  She follows me to my downstairs office and broods on the couch.

Now that there is no office to go to, I stay in my sweats and don’t get ready for school until the afternoon.  Since giving up the office, Opie becomes particularly morose and clingy when she observes my preparations to go teach.  She follows me from room to room and lies on the bathmat when I shower.  Instead of adjusting to my late afternoon departure, she has become increasingly agitated.  This week, I am lolling in the bathtub when suddenly a 65 lb. dog jumps right on top of me.  Dead weight.  I finally extricate myself.  Opie tracks soaking pawprints all through the house while I shower.

There are three cats.  Gerry is a special needs adoptee from the Kitty Bungalow.  He has lived here for nearly three years.  He likes the other cats and Opie but while Himself dreams most nights about petting him, we have never touched him.  Sometimes when it’s cold he sleeps on our feet but scampers away frantically when he realizes that they are attached to the rest of us.

Perry was a feral foundling from the neighborhood.  He arrives with a tiny sombrero.  Sometimes we put it on him for old time’s sake, but he has no patience for it.  Except when he’s hungry and taps on the cans of food, purring and rubbing against me, he has nothing to do with me.  He spends his days sleeping in Himself’s office, between the computer and the monitor while he toils away and sleeps at night on top of Himself.  He bites and scratches if I try to touch him.

While we are in Felton, the housesitter reports the death of Sherry, a Lynx-Siamese, barely a year old and one of the sweetest, and certainly the most beautiful cat we’d ever had.  It is so devastating that we are still unable to really talk about it.

We return home to Gerry, who likes no one except the dog, and Perry who won’t give me the time of day.  During the stressful period of moving my office and dealing with our squatter/tenant, I am particularly in need of a cat who likes me.  And I know that it’s lookist, but I want a pretty, blue eyed cat.  I contact The Kitty Bungalow and am told that there is a blue- eyed beauty but she needs some socialization prior to being adopted.  It is suggested that I tutor her and her brother Anthony, a tuxedo and attempt to reduce their skittishness.  Both are fraidy cats.  They’ll sit on my lap and suck on these kitty space food tubes but show no other affection and return to cowering in a corner when the food is gone.  While she is very pretty, I know that Ina would not adapt to living with a big dog and two surly adult cats.  She and Anthony both end up adopted elsewhere though.

I am asked to tutor the football team.  Huddle, Touchdown, Tackle and Scrimmage.  They are about two months old, long haired but not great groomers, a motley and very hissy crew.  Huddle, the girl cat grudgingly sits on my lap, but the others only connect when I provide them those tubes of kitty crack.

It is the beginning of kitten season and there is a new batch just about every day.  Tuxedos, Calicos, solid black and brindle tabby.  Some are very sweet, but I have my heart set on a girl as pretty as our lovely Sherry.  There is a new batch and among the tabbys and tuxedos, is a gorgeous Siamese Lynx.  He’s a boy and as girl cats tend to be more affectionate, I was hoping for a female but he’s such a handsome little gent, that I apply to adopt him.

I fetch him yesterday and surprise Himself.  Larry is sequestered in the bedroom. He plays and cuddles immediately but hides under the bed when we allow Perry to enter to check him out.

Now, Opie and frequent visitor Mick, a giant floppy terrier are banished, and the two other cats are left their food on the kitchen counter.

Most of the volunteers at the Kitty Bungalow are women, and at first, Larry is put off by the man with the beard.  After about an hour though he is on Himself like glue.  And as I write this, Himself struggles to sleep while the kitten nips him, walks on his head and plays with his hair.  When I finish here, I will devote some time to making sure that Larry likes me as much as he does Himself. I have about a dozen of those space food tubes from the Kitty Bungalow, which I will administer myself and not offer to Himself.  Until our visitor Mick departs there will be no effort at canine-kitten integration so there are two indignant dogs and two angry cats locked out of the bedroom temporarily. 

As much as I want to spend the day in kitten heaven, I cannot give Opie the short shrift so I suspect that while I give the doggie her due attention, Himself will be upstairs playing with Larry and talking baby talk to him and maybe Larry will even start sleeping on Himself and, like the others, take interest in me only at feeding time.  I’m hiding those kitty food tubes but I suspect that the dog person will end up with yet another cat and that the cat lady will likely end up taking another bath with the dog.