For the majority of our home life with our children, we had cats. Not sure why we went the cat way other than I brought a sweet little cat with me when we first moved in together named Ms. Speck. Our boys and I never had an issue with our cats other than the fact that at times they were the typical standoffish smelly creatures that they are with everyone.
Our first little pup was named Oscar and he was my dog. He tolerated the boys and the hubby but whenever I went to bed at night he would press himself against me and growl at anyone who came in to snuggle, including the hubby. Boy, that just makes me smile thinking about it. He was a loyal little shit and I can’t tell you how much it broke our hearts when he suffered a stroke at just 7 years old.
We lost little Oscar right after we moved into our empty nest and I happened to take a vacation with my brother soon after. We weren’t looking for another pup right away but my husband said the house was so quiet without Oscar or the boys in it – we took the plunge again and got Truman. I remember going to the Humane Society with my youngest son and seeing this sweet little dog that even though he was in a room already with a potential new owner, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of us. We left dejectedly but right before I pulled up at home, the young lady at the shelter called and said that person was going to think on him that evening – too bad so sad – we got him!!
Truman has turned out to be one of the sweetest things to come into our lives. He has the perfect temperament, is the perfect size and is the perfect snuggler when you really need some lovin’. We also now have Pablo. Pablo Escobark to be exact. He was only 1 pound when we got him and was supposed to be a miniature something or other but instead, he is a full-sized hairball of goofiness. They both love each other and my husband and me with everything they’ve got. If you have a bad day or even just happen to be crying about a sappy commercial on television, one or both of them will be sure to nuzzle up to you and smooch your blues away.
I guess my reason for this post is because lately whether it is because I have been ill or really depressed because of the red-headed-almost-the-worst-daughter-in-law-ever situation, these two little furballs really stepped it up.
And I know some of you are cat lovers out there but I can’t see any of my past cats or any cats really ever, doing anything to help me feel better about these situations like these two did. I needed something furry to look me deep in the eyes with compassion, pant at me and lick my face a time or two and then snuggle up close to me and help me fall asleep to its beating heart. Yes, my husband could have filled all of those requirements but there was a couple of levels of Destiny that needed to be conquered and the Cubs were playing. All my cats would have done was remind me of how flexible they were, steadily tried to pull away from me as I held them tight to my chest against their will and quickly licked my tears off of their fur that had fallen only seconds before. Bitches.
So in looking back over this post, I guess the only real bad example I set here is that my psychological well-being relies way too much on my dogs.
Well, so be it.
The Bad Example 