Everyone knows I have a slew of animals. Does seven make a slew?

Anyway, when I looked around the other day, I realized how much my pets impact my life, both good and bad. They’re my furry family. Yep, I have an animal house and I love every minute. Well, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration.

Four of my seven

Let’s just say I’ve had to make compromises for having dogs, Nellie, Callie and Skip and cats, Oliver, Savannah, Tippi and Jack. I can’t expect my nice things to stay nice, so my furniture is often covered like a winterized beach home. I have tables with embedded teeth marks and a backyard with a hole almost deep enough to bury a Mini Cooper, courtesy of Nellie.

My 4 cats decorate the floor with litter from their boxes, thereby establishing my handheld Dyson as my new best friend. My kitchen floor is like a slip and slide from messy slurping dogs. Since fur is everywhere, I’ve given up living in a fur-free zone. Instead, I’m considering buying stock in lint rollers.

My constant companion

When I first brought home an anxious Nellie from the racetrack, she chewed the corners of my buffet, 2 sofa tables, my piano, dining room table and even the toes from my claw-foot secretary. Tin foil that covers wooden corners actually stops her from completely finishing them off. Unfortunately, Oliver sees foil as play things and removes them.

Nervous Nellie

When I foster ringworm kittens, I wear a surgical gown and gloves so I’m completely covered. Who would have guessed wearing all that feels like being in a sauna, but without the benefit of weight loss?

Baby gates block select doorways: one to keep Nellie from eating litter box poop and the other so Callie can’t chew the TV remote I forget to place out of her reach (we’re on #3). Something tells me they need more chew toys.

Another gate keeps the dogs from the cats’ eating area since all three would dive in like Greg Louganis going for gold. Oh, and I’m constantly scooping and side-stepping poop in the backyard. Did I mention I love every minute? Well, maybe not every minute.

One of my foster kittens chewed the cord off my office blinds, preventing me from lowering or raising them. So I bought new blinds. Then one of my own cats, who shall remain nameless because I can’t get any of them to snitch, chewed the cord to my bedroom blinds. So again I bought new ones. One of my foster kittens recently munched on my iPhone charger cable. You know the routine…

Since old Nellie is now having urinary issues, she sometimes has accidents on the family room carpet. I got smart and replaced it with wood-look plank tile that’s a breeze to clean. Amen to that.

I lock the pet door at night to keep my animals safely inside. Therefore, I’m continually getting up and down to let the dogs in and out, often accompanied by a constant chorus of cries from the cats pleading to go back out. I always ignore them but apparently they’re slow learners.

I sleep like one of those twisted pretzels because even though all my pets have beds, they somehow end up on mine. Each animal has his or her own spot on the bed and god help us all if another one tries to sleep there.

Yes friends, I do have an animal house and lest you think I’m complaining, think again. I believe I actually might love every minute.