Samhain Publishing Ltd Weblog

Barking Mad

I want a dog. Not a big one, just one that’ll lie at my feet and keep them warm, or one I can pull up onto my lap and pet. A cat would do too – but it would have to be a cuddly one. Hmm, from what I’ve seen of cats, that’s not so likely. Cats are much more independent.

I’ve always been surrounded by animals – from as far back as I can remember there’s been an animal in the house. When I was little we had a budgie named Timmy (the Lassie show was big back in those days) and an orange tabby cat (who strangely enough was called Kitty. No, she wasn’t named after Miss Kitty of Gunsmoke—sheesh there’s blast from the past—apparently we just weren’t inventive enough to come up with a name for her.)

Later on, when we moved to the country, my mother decided we needed a dog. (It was to distract my sister who wanted a horse.) So we ended up with a stick-and-ball-crazy black and white English Springer Spaniel named George. Two years later, his girlfriend Jill joined the pack. (My parents were now entering George and Jill on the show circuit and both dogs had their championships.) Jill and George hit it off well enough that they had several litters – of which we ended up keeping sisters Butch and Millie. Charley came along a couple years later.

To add more chaos to the mix, we adopted a black kitten from the neighbors – it was the only black kitten out of seven, the rest were all grey and white. I was in love. Kitty was renamed Big Kitty, and the kitten was forever known as Little Kitty even though she outgrew Big Kitty. Little Kitty and Big Kitty – they didn’t get along so well. But George and Little Kitty? Love at first sight. In fact, Little Kitty used to follow George around like he was her mom. She’d climb all over him, they’d even sleep together. The tiny photo is of Little Kitty sleeping on George’s back—since she’s all black and he’s black and white, she’s tough to see.

After I left home, my hubby and I had various animals – fish, another budgie, even a cockatiel named John, but at some point, my boys started clamoring for a dog. Eventually we decided they were old enough to help care for one. That’s when we met Storm who was part lab/part husky. We adopted her from a rescue group when she was fifteen months old. She reminded me a lot of poor old George – she loved chasing a stick or a ball, and if you walked anywhere near any sort of water, Storm found it. And when it snowed – wow, she turned into a puppy yipping and turning circles as she tried to catch it, burying her nose into the drifts. But Storm had a lot of health issues – at two she developed epilepsy, then we discovered her hips were bad, she tore a ligament in one leg and had to be kept off it for weeks, and then she developed a tumor on her adrenal glands. She hung in there as long as she could, but eventually we had to say good-bye. It’s been four years since we lost her, and I still come home some days expecting her to greet me at the door.

Lately I’ve been eyeing pictures of pets that people post on Twitter with a longing my husband finds dangerous. He reminds me of the vet bills we had trying to hang onto Storm, and how our sons are almost ready to move out.

“What will we do with a dog if we want to go away for a weekend?” he asks.

And still … I’m so tempted to get another dog. Not a big dog like Storm again, but I’d love to have something I can cuddle on my lap. (Although my hubby reminds me that’s his job.) They say animals are good for the health – that patting a dog or stroking a cat can lower your blood pressure. Maybe that’s the angle I should take …