Now don’t get me wrong; what I’m about to say may give the impression I don’t adore my 10 pets, all rescues. Yes, they, like humans, are uniquely flawed beings. But accepting flaws are part of any relationship, right? We take the good with the bad. Besides, I’ve determined I was meant to have each of these critters because certain aspects of their not-so-endearing qualities might not be tolerated by some.
My cat with an amputated tail, Savannah, is determined to put me in traction. When it’s time to eat, she’s like a magnet and my legs are metal. She zig zags between them like a slalom skier. Everyday I warn her she’s going to trip me but she pretends not to hear. No doubt one day I’ll be sporting a cast on a body part. But Savannah is the sweetest, gentlest of souls. Not a mean bone in that body.
Wally, my Dachshund mix, barks incessantly whenever someone walks by the house while he’s positioned on the back of the sofa with a perfect view. He’s still not entirely house-trained, even though I pretend I’ve won the lottery whenever he uses the dog door and returns triumphantly, having just relieved himself. Apparently, however, my enthusiasm doesn’t persuade him to use it on a regular basis. But Wally, like one of those poor circus bears, sits up with arms elevated when he wants my attention. It’s endearing and he knows it.