The Beasts I Live With

Our menagerie has slowly  -- and, perhaps, inevitably -- grown over the last three years of living in our home here in our small town. We do love animals, though as the adults in the family (usually), Husband and I have had to put our collective foot down several times. It's not foolproof, though it did spare us the addition of two cockatiels, but only barely. I actually wanted those birds, but they ended up in a home with a very attentive and loving person who doesn't have constantly hungry cats. Probably best.

The oldest and most venerable animal who allows us to feed, pet, and house him is Myles. He was the only one in his litter who didn't end up in a new home, so we've kept him for 10 years. He is still my dad's favorite cat of all time. He rules the house as the grumpy old man who scares the dogs nearly witless and doesn't put up with not being fed every five minutes. But he's really a soft and cuddly teddy bear who snuggles up for a good session of fuzz therapy whenever you need a cuddle. Of course, his habit of leaping onto the bed at 5:30am and kneading me with his claws until I stumble down the stairs and shove him out the door isn't my favorite thing in the world, but we all have our trials in life.

Lincoln is the polar opposite of Myles. We found Lincoln pacing back and forth in his cage at the pet store, an unfortunate inmate of the animal shelter because of his penchant for running up trees. Gabrielle used all her birthday money to purchase his freedom and then spent a week begging me to take him back because all he did was hide behind the couch and try to scratch people. He did eventually grow used to us and adopt us as his people, but it wasn't until after he was neutered that he and Myles finally became best buddies. Lincoln is outgoing and playful where Myles is quiet and brooding. And he's very much Gabrielle's cat. He loves her dearly.

I've talked about Jazzee before in this blog. She's not officially our dog, but she shuttles back and forth between our house and my friend Ruth's. It was kind of hard getting used to having a dog, what with the constant and sincere devotion and attention she pays to me; I was used to the much more disinterested cat personality up until that point. I pick her up nearly every day and she goes home at night, which suits her fine, since no one except her plays with her toys or chews on her chewy rawhides at her real house.

 Marmite came along earlier this year -- in February or March, I think. He was the stray that won our hearts, and he's the one who finally made me understand what dog people have been saying all along. He and Jazzee are best friends and they follow me wherever I go in the house -- my own little jingling parade of tags and fur and pure excitement. Whenever we put on our shoes and get ready to go out the door, Marmite is there, whining in anticipation of a car ride; and maybe, if he's really lucky, he'll get to go on a long walk in the field without wearing his leash, sniffing everything and running three miles to our one. He is fiercely devoted to all of us. I can't help but smile at his constant enthusiasm.

And then there's Yu. As lost kittens, she and her brother stayed with us for a few days until we located their owners. Turns out the owners live just around the corner, but they are fairly disinterested, and Yu visits us just about all the time. She is a cat with many names depending on which neighborhood kid you talk to (and all the neighbor children know and watch out for her): Ninja, Thunder, Dark Star, Midnight, Shadow. I never liked any of those names and simply called her Little Girl or Baby Girl until Husband suggested we name her after Granny Weatherwax's cat (one of Terry Pratchet's many delightful characters in his Discworld novels). So Yu she is. It makes for some hilarity of the extremely nerdy type. I enjoy saying things like, "Is Yu hungry?" and "Does Yu want to go out?" Just hand me the coke bottle glasses and the pocket protector.

Yu loves to tease Marmite. Loves it. It's practically her favorite pastime, though she does get a kick out of attacking my foot under the bed covers. Marmite, for his part, views her with some trepidation, but he doesn't like going out into the backyard without either Yu or Jazzee for company, so he puts up with it.

Funny how animals shape us and change us, isn't it? I get a great deal of satisfaction from the fact that an animal trusts me completely, and it makes me want to be a better person. It's like being smiled at by a baby: the sheer rush of joy you feel in that sweet moment seems to encourage some deep-seated desire to rise to any occasion where courage, honor, and integrity are required. Such is the power of this ingenuous innocence.