Line of Cats
It’s nice to hang out with friends who “get us”. Luckily we have a few. We just had a nice visit with a friend of my husband’s who is one such person.
Not just everyone is able to “get us”. We have an immense love for our animals and a fondness for our old house. Not a big deal, you say? We currently live with 5 dogs and 2 cats. These are low numbers for us.
We currently have 4 dog crates in our dining room. One fits a 70 lb greyhound. Our front entrance houses two litter boxes and a table with cat food, all barricaded by a baby gate.
Our house was built in 1830 and comes with “charm” from olden times. The floors are uneven, the electric could stand an upgrade, the basement walls are made of stones, and the windows stick.
But then again, there is plenty of character if you are able to see it. There are old doors with latch type handles. There are lots of doors and windows with moldings. Curved walls in two rooms. Old fashioned sleeping nooks off the main bedroom. And older outbuildings, trees, and plantings.
And we have room to create gardens that we enjoy since we live in the country.
The best part though is our family that lives here with us. It’s not everywhere that you can see a line of cats outside the bathroom.
Or a pack of dogs equally eager to snuggle or play.
This is not the life for everyone but we call it home.
May the Force Be With You.
This is Coco and Milo. They are Pembroke Welsh Corgis. Coco is a sable and white little girl of 2 1/2 years of age. Milo is the tricolor and turned one recently. We are watching them this week for our daughter. And here the adventure begins.
We went to pick them up and bring them home one evening last week. This was to save them the trauma of being “left” by their parents. My husband was driving us home and the dogs were crawling all over me and trying to crawl on him. I told them “no crawling on the driver”. I had to grab them frequently by their harnesses to gain some modicum of control. Milo the Younger was on my lap, on the dashboard, on the armrest. Then he crawled around the back of my neck and hung their. Then it was in the backseat, in the front seat, trying to crawl on my head. And Coco the Elder was going from front seat to backseat and trying to stand on the driver, etc. You get the idea. I turned to my husband and said “this is like driving around with a car full of monkeys!”
We were on the freeway about halfway home when my car window started to go down. I thought my husband was putting it down so the dogs could get some air. But it kept going down. And there was an energetic dog on my lap looking out the space where the window pane was. (Now halfway down.) My husband said ” what are you doing?” I said “I thought you were doing it.” Turns out Milo was standing on the control and he put the window down. Mercifully, he had been such a monkey up to this point that I had my hand on his harness, as I did for most of the trip. (Please note, childproof locks were engaged after this episode. )
To be fair, after we got part of the way home, Coco the Elder went in the back seat and laid down. I suspect the excitement of having someone take them away from home had them all worked up.
The reintroduction to our pack went well. The dogs all remembered each other and there were no issues. After the initial sniffings everyone went their own ways. They all went out for last call to do their business with no problems.
Then it was nearly bedtime. We were leery of bedtime because the pups would have to sleep in a crate which they are not used to. For their own safety and the peace of mind of the other animals, a crate was required. We thought it would be a long night with lots of barking and scolding. Those little pups went in their crate with their treats and were good as gold. They slept in the same crate because they are so bonded. Milo and Coco are actual siblings. Same parents but different litters. The only peep we heard out of them during the night was to provide backup for Baxter, our lab/Doberman mix, who was barking out the window at a groundhog.
And so day one ended well and peacefully. Stay tuned for further adventures of Coco the Elder and Milo the Younger…
Size isn’t everything. It’s often attitude that is the deciding factor in the pecking order, for people as well as dogs. In this case I’m talking about dogs.
Yesterday the dogs were playing outside and got quite wound up. Cassius began hazing Shelby. Cassius is a greyhound who weighs 70 lbs. Shelby is a Shetland Sheepdog who weighs 32 lbs. The score? Shelby- 1, Cassius- 0.
Shelby was running and barking at a visitor as their car pulled out of our driveway, no surprise there, she is a sheltie. Cassius decided it would fun to bark at her for barking. Then he decided it would be fun to nip at her when she barked and finally he grabbed a mouth full of fur in a play bite that left her with slobbery fur and pulled her enough to move her. Looked like a bite but I know Cassius was playing and there was no visible wound, hence a “play bite”.
Shelby put up with his behavior up to the point where he grabbed her. Then she whipped around and got in Cassius’ face, barking and lunging at him and generally telling him off. She had him backing up while barking in his face. At that point we intervened so it wouldn’t escalate. But Shelby likes to be in charge and maintain control. You don’t mess with Shelby.
Cassius got scolded for putting his mouth on Shelby and spent the rest of the evening pouting and depressed, on the couch. He is such a sensitive dog. If you raise your voice at him, he gets very upset.
But it was just a day in the life. As you can see they do normally get along fine. It was just one of those sibling squabbles. And so it goes.
Relaxing is good for the soul, and peace of mind. I could be doing one of the many things that I should be doing. Cleaning litter boxes, washing dishes, weeding. No thank you. I did the most important thing though. Frisbeed the dogs! It was the most important, just ask them.
But instead of any chores, here I sit on the porch with books about…dogs and food, of course!
A typical photo of life at our home makes me happy.
The furnishings will never make an interior design shoot. The couch is not particularly attractive. In fact, quite the opposite. It does however, hold up well to active dogs and feline paws. The windows provide places for cats to perch and sniff the air and keep track of life beyond the screens. And then there is the obligate doggy patterned pillow. Throw in a lamp and a piece of artwork and it is a functioning room.
You have to see beyond this for the magic to appear. The largest two of our four dogs are napping peacefully together. One of our cats is also hanging out, watching daddy watering plants outside. All is peaceful and cohesive.
Did you ever have one of those days that did not get off to an auspicious start? Yesterday was such a day for me. One of those days where you think, I should have stayed in bed.
I got up yesterday morning and the house was cold. We finally got fuel oil on Friday but then the boiler would not start. Not quite as dire as it sounds. We also heat with wood and had been doing so throughout the fall. However, on Tuesday morning the fire had gone out overnight because no one got up in the middle of the night to add wood. Also not the worst thing in the world because it’s still warm enough that the house doesn’t cool off very fast.
So I got up, put the dogs out for their morning constitutional, and set about laying the wood and kindling for a new fire. I let the dogs back inside. The new greyhound Cassius came from a racing track in Palm Beach, Florida. He thinks any temperatures below 70 degrees are unbearable and that we are abusive. Never mind the fact that he has a sweatshirt and we cover him with blankets.
I went back to light the aforementioned fire. I was crouched down arranging the kindling and lighting the fire. The end of my robe was trailing on the floor as I worked. Apparently, unbeknownst to me at the time, our senile, 16 year old cat Lacey came along behind me, saw the end of my robe lying on the floor and decided that it was a good place to pee. Lacey does tend to pee in creative places these days because she cannot remember where the litter box is, but this is a first.
I must be making progress in goal of becoming a more calm and peaceful person because I did not even get mad at Lacey at the time. I realized that she is old and senile and we are just happy to still have her with us. However that did not stop me from jumping up to clean up the mess! Now when you stand up after having your garment peed on, the voice of experience here, gravity tends to take effect and you end up with cat urine running on the floor. So… After getting the robe out of the picture, I got paper towels to clean up the mess. I was in the other room disposing of the towels when I heard the smoke alarm going off. We always leave the door on the wood burner open for a bit so the fire can get enough oxygen to get burning good. Then we close the door on the wood burner and the fire starts the fan and the heating process. Well, with running around taking care of “the pee incident” I never got back to close the door and too much smoke came out into the room.
So I grabbed a chair, jumped up, and removed the smoke detector so as not to awaken my sleeping husband. I really did NOT want any witnesses to this whole fiasco. Did I mention that I start work at 6:30 in the morning? So it was quite early when I was having all this fun. In the end, no harm was done. I got the wood burner heating again, the smoke dissipated, and I put the smoke detector back up before I left for work. My robe got washed when I came home from work and we were status quo again.
By the way, the repair company is coming to get our boiler furnace running again today, and I am still glad that we have Lacey to share our lives with. All is right with the world.
What’s not to love? It was Saturday. It was warm. It was sunny. I got to hang out with my dogs. It was the perfect afternoon. Above are Shelby and Baxter wanting to know what we’re going to do next. What we did next was play with the tennis ball.
Phoebe and Shelby look on while Baxter brings the ball back. Shelby ‘ s favorite pass time is barking at Baxter and bossing him as he brings the ball back.
And here is Nikki doing what she does best. Posing and being cute. Actually what she does best is try to eat poop while I’m not looking but I’m not going to count that as a skill.
And here are Baxter, Shelby, and Nikki keeping an eye on me as I walk into the woods. You’ll notice Phoebe is not watching. She says if you’re dumb enough to get lost in the woods, I can’t help you. I’m having a nap.
And thus ends a perfect afternoon. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
These are our four cats, Harley, Lacey, Stitch aka Chester, and Morty.
This is one of our six new mouse traps. Hmmm! Why should we need mouse traps? We are over run with mice. I have seen evidence of them in multiple areas of the house. Infact I have actually seen mice in our house. I was having conversations with one while in the basement doing laundry. He sat on the stones of the wall and appeared to listen while I spoke. Once they began getting in my baking supplies, this was no longer acceptable.
I’ve never had need of mouse traps before. Harley used to be a world class mouser. He’s around 15 now and appears to have retired since we got the younger cats. He taught Morty how to hunt and that was the end of his career. Lacey is nearing 16 and not in the best of health, so although she used to catch mice, those days are over. Stitch is a young cat and new here. He acts like he has never seen a mouse before. He doesn’t appear to recognize them. Morty does catch some mice but he is a small cat and not able to keep up with the current mouse population. We hope he will be able to show Stitch the ropes. We begged Harley to come out of retirement but so far, no luck.
So although I am generally against killing things on principal, I must concede that in this case it may be necessary. Mice can carry disease. They can chew insulation from electrical wires. Both bad things. So far we have caught three large mice in 24 hours. Maybe the cats are on strike.
I think everyone wants to know how to make the pain stop after losing someone dear. I have had a lot of experience in this regard in recent years, suffering a number of human, canine, and feline losses. I don’t think you can really make the pain go away. You might be able to distract yourself for a while or become numb for a time but the grief is still there. What does ultimately help is the passage of time.
So how do I cope? I realize that the love I shared with the one who is gone is proportionate to the pain I feel after their passing. In a twisted way the pain is a gift that I have because of the depth of love and relationship that was shared. And with the especially meaningful relationships the grief morphs into a wistful longing of what was and keeps the memories fresh. The sharp pain does subside. It is replaced by these memories. I carry them with me and they become a part of who I am. I never do lose that hollow spot that they filled in life but the images help to keep them close to me so that they are always with me.
Each of these passings of a loved one takes a piece of my heart with it. You would think that after a while my heart would be all used up. This is not the case. I learn something about love each time and am able to love again and again. My heart and love have the capacity to grow. I hope that my emotional heart is getting bigger. I know it’s not getting any smaller.
Duncan was this soul mate and best friend for me. When he passed, it was all I could do just to drag myself around and do the bare necessities for days. My heart physically hurt for days too. My world seemed so empty. At every turn, he wasn’t there when he should have been. Two and a half years have gone by. The sharp pains are gone. I function and go about my life and enjoy it. I am happy. Life is good. Have I stopped thinking about Duncan? Not for a day. He is a part of who I am. He goes with me everywhere.
For me this relationship was with a dog. That is the case for some. Others have this experience with different beings. Anyone who was a major presence and part of your life might have the same effect.
Why do I write this? Because I am wallowing in grief? Definitely not. I write so that those experiencing something similar might take some comfort in it and so that those who don’t understand might gain some insight.
The ultimate gift, given and received, is taking that love and honoring it. Love is never wasted. Cherish it and put it to good use by continuing to spread it around.
Last weekend was beautiful, and quite possibly fall’s last hurrah so we all made the most of it. I took the opportunity to walk around our woods. The dogs kept an eye on me as they were outside enjoying the weather too. You can see that watching me is very serious business by the intense stares.
This is the path the dogs watched me amble down. Not many leaves remained on the trees but the grass was still green and the sun was shining. Actually I took a stroll down the path to go visit Roxanne, who now resides in the doggy cemetery, after her recent passing. You can read her story elsewhere on this blog. https://sanctuaryacres.wordpress.com/2015/11/04/roxanne-and-the-big-ride/
And this is the trail from the edge of our woods back up the hill towards the house. It is covered with a lush carpet of moss. I know from taking the class, Mosses and Bryophytes, back in my college days that this is a Polytrichum moss. They are very green and ornate.
As I pass the wood crib I am comforted by the piles of wood that will keep us warm this winter. We have yet to turn our boiler on for the year. In the fall we try to heat with wood. Our goal is not to turn the boiler on until December 1st. This goal has varying degrees of success depending on the severity of cold and our degree of motivation. During the dead of winter we still burn wood but it is a supplement to our central heating system. It seems appropriate somehow as our home was built in 1830 and we use this archaic method of warmth for a significant portion of the heating season.
Here is Baxter watching my return. Of course my walk through the woods begins and ends with dogs. As it should. This is a metaphor of my life. Life is good.
Sanctuary Acres 
