Editor’s Notes: A pet owner’s fur-losophy
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Having a pet (or three) is weird. One minute you're sound asleep, the next you are awakened by a perfect harmony of double meows alerting you to the fact that the cats would like their breakfast a bit early; and the dog joins in with a "Since you're awake, I'd like to go outside," bark.
And juuuust when you're tempted to scold them and roll back over, the older cat does that thing where they purr and rub their heads against your foot, and, well, that's all right then.
The older cat is 16. (Yes, yes, I know - but I had an earlier gray cat who lived to be 19 and I'm just hanging on to that, thank you very much.)
He's become quite finicky and has to eat specially prepared food that is easier for him to swallow. But other than that ... and his occasionally appearing to forget where he is and what he's doing, but hey, who doesn't? ... he's just fine.
Teaching pet sitters how to prepare that food has made me realize that having pets also makes you comfortable saying things like "It's just got to be real gloopy soupy" with a straight face.
It also validated my keeping of a not-so-young-anymore family member's baby utensils, as the softish plastic spoon and fork come in quite handy. He -- the cat, not the former baby -- freaked me out for a couple of days when it seemed like he wasn't really interested in eating. (Cat owners will understand -- later evidence suggests he was just working on a hairball. He's eating normally again.) But before I knew that, I had the bright idea to pick up the cat and try to spoon feed him.
It was like trying to force food into a very indignant and sharp toddler. I paid with (a little) blood for my attempt.
While all this change in the mealtime routine has been going on, the other cat, who is 10 years younger, is feeling left out.
And I was about to feel sorry for him -- just a sad, pathetic, but very chunky orange cat mewing pitifully at my feet every day before he gets his own bowl filled.
Then, one day, he managed to launch his whole body in a way that wasn't the normal smooth-looking cat jump onto a counter top. (Oh, did I mention I'd been trying to feed the older cat on elevated surfaces to keep the younger cat from edging him out of his own bowl?)
This leap was more of a catapult (heh) that sent the younger cat not only up to the counter top, but high enough to land on top of the older cat, in the blink of an eye.
Then there was yowling and hissing and scrambling and spilling of the entire gloopy soupy bowl of not-cheap food ... So now the mealtime routine includes me gently fending off the orange menace with a brush.
This is all happening, of course, while the dog is tied outside on his lead or I'd be fending him off, too. Once he trots back in, there's another, much shorter process involving getting him fed and watered and making sure he's gotten his joint health supplement.
Because he's almost 13. And, again, seems to be happy and healthy and as vigilant against squirrels and falling leaves as ever; so, we're just not going to think about the age thing.
Because this is just another stage. I call it my morning and evening chores, which aren't all that different from when all these animals were much, much younger. And when I'm tempted to grump about it, the dog usually does something like bonk himself in the face with his own tugging rope; or one of the cats asks to snuggle in between me and the couch cushion during a thunder storm.
And all three of them have a sixth sense about when I come home from work on a particularly overwhelming or emotional day (hey, the news business will do that to you sometimes), and they put aside their differences to meet me at the top of the steps and just sit with me for a minute.
So yeah, having pets can be weird. But, at any age, it's worth every second.
Christina Myer is executive editor of The Parkersburg News and Sentinel. She can be reached via e-mail at cmyer@newsandsentinel.com.