Dreidel Dog

Three months ago today, Husband and I woke up early on a Saturday morning, trekked an hour and a half into the suburbs, and came home with our new best friend, a 4.5 year old rottweiler/border collie mix.

As a lifelong cat person, I really had no idea what to expect from a dog.  I’ve definitely been put to the test as a dog owner in the past 12 weeks – trips to and from the vet, ultrasounds, x-rays, more doggie vomit than I ever envisioned having to clean up in my life – but we think (knock on wood!) we’re finally getting her digestive issues sorted out and are heading in the right direction.

As an adult shelter dog, she certainly has a few behavioral issues we’re working on (namely, serious food aggression and an extreme dislike of strangers looking her in the eye) and we haven’t figured out all her littler quirks (it’s hard to figure out what sets her off when she immediately flips between growling and snarling to jumping in your lap to lick your face), but after a mere three months, she’s already a member of the family.  I can’t believe someone gave her up and dumped her off at a rescue ranch, but I’m so happy they did, and the timing was right that she could come home with us. 

Dreidel Dog has pretty much violated all the rules I set out for her – no sleeping on the living room couch (see above: but who could resist a black and white polka dotted dog on a black and white herringbone couch?), no licking my face (we’re still working on not doing this, but she gets in a good lick once in a while), and no climbing on the bed – while she still hasn’t tried to sleep in the bed, this weekend she figured out how to throw her paws around me and pull herself up into our bed in the morning.  Today, to thank me for providing her with a loving home, food, and very expensive veterinary care, she tried to use my face to haul her 70-pound self  up into bed, leaving me with a nice scratch below my eye, on my eyelid, and a black eye.  Thanks, dog.

It’s a good thing you’re so cute.

Furry Family

On August 9, 1997, a litter of kittens was born a few blocks away. A couple of weeks later, my parents and I wandered over to pick out our new cat. My father immediately scooped up one; I clung to another, and my mother glared at both of us and reiterated that we would be bringing home ONE kitten. Of course, several weeks later when they were ready to move on to their new homes, both kittens came with us, and spent the next several years nearly inseparable (as they aged, they became more independent and started prowling the house on their own instead of as a team).

Even though my parents have been his caregivers for many years now (I, of course, was not permitted to bring a cat to college, and there was no way my parents were splitting up the pair and letting me take him to my first grad school apartment), they have always continued to refer to Zeus as "my" cat -- after all, without me, he wouldn't have become part of our family. And, cliche though it may be, he certainly was a part of the family, always waiting on the coffee table staring out the window to greet us on our way home, and immediately jumping into the lap of anyone who sat in his favorite recliner.

It is with a very sad, heavy heart that I have to report that "my" sweet kitty is no more. He passed on this morning at the vet due to unexpected kidney failure, tragically unable to hang on as my parents rushed home from Puerto Rico to say goodbye. It's hard enough to actually say goodbye to a pet; but truly unbearable to not get in that one last ear scratch and knowing your pet, essentially a member of the family, passed away not being petted by someone he loved, but alone in a cage at the emergency vet.

Zeus, wherever you are now, I hope you always have a warm lap available and all the mice you want to chase!