Tuesday, December 9, 2008


No, not the weather. and not the proverbial "when it rains it pours", in any sense (jobs, training, etc).

Cats and dogs.

or Cat. and not dog.

The cat is old. And getting frail. It's heartbreaking, really. She was our "starter cat", a semi-feral who eventually became sufficiently comfortable with us, and us with her, that the adoption was a gentle meld rather than an event. She was the "little gray gato" who lived in the backyard, who slowly was coaxed into the house, and over time became an indoor only cat. She's my first pet since I reached adulthood; she predates our marriage although not our living-in-sin.

She hated that we brought in another stray, one who wrapped my heart around his paw in a fashion I can't ever describe. He's been gone 3 years, victim of a cancer that glued his organs together.

She blossomed as an only cat.

And then we brought home the young Turk, a supposedly reserved young man-cat who is domineering and sweet and completely insane.

and now the cat is old. and frail. her spinal discs are degenerating. It's not her time yet -- her pain is well controlled, and her life is not so bad. But my heart, once thought so safe from the starter cat, hurts to think of the decision, to know that it's not so very far in the future.

the cat is old. I hate that.

so cat. but not dog.

I always believed myself to be a dog person. and I am. or a cat-and-dog person, at any rate. I miss canine companionship, immensely.

El Bandito and I live in an expensive city full of hills. and we rent, because even with his income, we can't afford to buy in this painted town. Finding a place that took cats and was decent took us almost a year. There's no way that, in this lifestyle and this location, we can have a dog.

Nor do we have time enough for the dog we'd want. Trapeze eats my free time. My job is uncertain. Meanwhile, we both work full time and the days seem too short. The dog deserves better than that.

But I dream of the sound of claws clicking on hardwood floors, the snuffle of a wet dog nose searching my pocket for treats. I want to bury my face in fur, to throw toys long past my shoulder's parameters, and feel the tug on the other end of the leash.

Other women want children. I just want ... a dog.

and for pets to be young and healthy forever.