By Linda Shaffer
Until late last June, a dog by the of Grover, odd miniature poodle mix, was #.75 in our house. Of course, Mr. S was #1. If the dog was .75 you know where that puts me, but it didn’t matter. Grover was our lovely pal for 13 years. He was a constant companion of the big guy in our house and loved by all who met him. He was funny and smart and didn’t have any hang-ups about being adopted. He was 16 or 17 years old when he finally got too weary of this world.
Like all people who love animal family members, we were broken hearted. Because we knew Mr. S’s time was nearly up, this passing made us extra sad because Grover helped change the subject for a lot of years. Pets are a wonderful addition to a family and a great distraction during hard times. They help us lighten up. They help us focus on something other than our own issues. They help us find joy in life because they find it and lead us to it. Without Grover, life just wasn’t the same.
Not exercising good judgment, and with the help of daughter Pam, we tried to add a new dog to our home from late July until April. She was too much of everything. Her energy, enthusiasm, abounding (mostly bounding) love and activity level were off our chart. Scout was a 3-year-old cartoon character, and she REALLY changed the subject around here during her time with us. She also provided the laughter we needed to get through some tough days and she didn’t even know it. She adored Mr. S. She slept under his bed from night one and for all the days she lived here. Even when he didn’t.
Scout needed a wrestling partner, a walker that I didn’t have to pay for, time at a dog park, a bigger house and more lap time. Pam’s son wanted to adopt her, and it was for the best. Other than love, dogs have needs I can no longer meet. Scout needed my grandson Dawson and all he had to offer. I needed to find an old cat companion.
As it turned out, on the day I had Scout checked out at the vet before the transition, I told them my story about going feline. I had already talked with United Paws and others about adopting an old cat. They were having trouble finding a cat for me because the older cats available at the time were “weavers.” What? Yup. They love to help you walk by rubbing themselves on your legs as you do so. For someone like me this is not a fall risk, it’s an ambulance guarantee.
Hearing my story, one of the technicians said, “Have I got a cat for you!”. Her enthusiasm had me hooked. His name was Tigger. Declawed. A ginger-white cat, 12 and a half or so and about the same in pounds. One working eye and six teeth. One owner. She described him as being a “crabby old man” but nice. I was with that guy for 45 years. This was a job I could do. It helped that this all happened on our 44th anniversary. Kismet. Mr. S wasn’t big on gifts for anything, so I figured this was it. Best gift ever!
You know those animal shows where they rename dogs when they are rescued? If I were to rename Tigger, I would call him BB…that would be for “Bitey Boy”. He doesn’t do this often, but it makes me laugh. I shouldn’t laugh but this is one funny old cat. He has a “tick tock” tail. This means it is going all the time so you never know what action he will take next. What’s worse is that the end of his tail was broken at some point, so it has a life of its own…very similar to a rattlesnake. Each part of the tail operates independently. Yikes.
I looked at this dual action tail on the internet. Old people like pictures and the internet has a lot of cat tail pictures. Who knew? My cat’s tail is described as “aggravated or annoyed.” This is without the rattlesnake tip. Wait…it gets worse. I found a place where they showed the 10 worst cats for new cat owners. You can guess Tigger posed for the picture to advertise that U Tube site.
Oh yes, I’ve loved cats. A.B. Normal (Abby) and Beavis the Weather Cat each lived 14 or more years. We never had a cat who lived indoors only. Mr. S forbade the cat box. Now I know why. Tigger is a digger. After I clean up the litter mess inside and out, feeding the cat, cleaning his piggy boy eating area and maintaining his pretend Catio in my bedroom…I’m worn out. Wait…did I tell you how he sheds?
There’s more. Have a great week my friends.
