Pets

Newly Home

Growing Up

Meeting the New Arrival

It's a Hard Life

Buddies

 

I didn't really want a dog. Didn't really want a pet. Too much trouble and too much expense and too much time. And then they die. Who needs it, yeah?

But Jacquelyn kept insisting that I needed a pet. I put my foot down on rabbits. I adore rabbits, but their whole biology makes one realize that God intended them (in the wild) as nature's fast food. But I allowed myself to be persuaded to accept a dog. Jacquelyn can be very persuasive. And I like dogs.

So we went to get a Cocker puppy from a breeder that Jacquelyn had contacted. We had arranged to pick up a black male puppy, but while Jacquelyn was discussing terms with the seller, a tiny white and copper femal hobbled over to me, all head and ears, and lay against my leg, imploring to be picked up. So I scooped her up and nuzzled her, and she looked deep into my eyes (in the way that only dogs can) and kept patting my cheek softly with her paw.

At which point, gruff pragmatist that I am, there was no way I was leaving without her.

And so came Wicker into our lives. Wicker the Mighty Chaser of Shadows. Wicker the Terror of Butterflies. (Wicker who wets herself and hides behind my legs when small children attempt to pet her). She lies beside me as I write this in the wee hours, snoring away and dreaming dog dreams. My Friend.

Smartest damned dog I ever knew. Understands almost before being told and knows more words of English than most people I come into contact with. Can be stubborn and single-minded and has been known to tell a bald-faced lie or two. But has not an unkind bone in her body, and is loyal far beyond any capaity I will ever possess to deserve such.

But dammit... we were NOT going to get a cat.

I don't even like cats. And we had enough to do to take care of the dog. I think I mentioned though, that Jacquelyn can be rather persuasive. And she found a kitten at the shelter that "picked" her as Wicker had "picked" me. And so Duncan came to find her home with us as well.

(I will point out at this juncture that we did not name Duncan. She already had a name at the shelter and it seemed to suit. As to why I named my dog Wicker, I can only reply as Elwood P. Down did when asked why he chose to call his invisible, six-foot tall rabbit companion "Harvey": "Well, Harvey's his name")

We were VERY leery at first in introducing a dog and cat to one another. Not that we feared that Wicker would ever knowingly her the kitten. But Wicker had grown to be a large spaniel, and tends to get excited. And the kitten was so very tiny. The kitten, let it be said, was no sure about the arrangement either and at first hissed when we held her in site of the dog. But Wicker (who wanted to play so badly that her wagging tail was shaking her entire hindquarters) kept her head vey still near the kitten and nosed her very gently. And Duncan began to relax.

To make a story short, they are inseperable. If one is incarcerated for bad behavior, the other will lie outside the cage door and wait. Oh, we thought there would be blood. One morning I thought Wicker was actually eating the cat, as all I could see was dog head and cat paws. The I realised that there was rather a good deal more purring going on than I would have expected and looked closer to find that the cat had flopped onto her back and Wicker was stroking Duncan's belly with her nose. The next day I caught Duncan sitting on Wicker's head like a hat, carefully grooming the dog's ears. The look on Wicker's face was pure bliss.

And they have their odder games; our home is host to some of the wildest and most aerobatic sessions of chase ever seen. And whilst the cat seems to actually like being occassionally dragged around by her head (go figure), Wicker seems to enjoy having Duncan jump onto her back (or head, or butt... whatever she manages to catch hold of) and ride her like a stallion in a rodeo event.

But mostly, they like to curl up together in a sunbeam and sleep. And who can argue with that?