Last night was the third one in a row Tilla slept in my bed.  I sleep on the right side and my dog plopped himself right where my head would go so I had to fight for space and every inch.  I guess he like(s)(d) being close to me.  Coco, my other black dog was in her usual spot along the left side of the bed.  In fact I even had the third black animal we own sleeping on the foot of the other side of the bed–Cool Hand Luke–one of my seven cats.  That was somewhat unusual for Jasmine and her grownup kittens have, of late, taken over that spot.  She had two litters–four cats and it is not that unusual to see at least two of them sleeping nearby her on the bed.  They get along really well.

Again, my three black animals joined me in my bedroom.  First, “Cool Hand Luke” my black cat who I have had since I been married to my other was one animal–over ten years–and the other two dogs I consider my “pups” although now both are full grown.  We had the two dogs since the beginning.  They were born in my house.  The long haired one-Coco-usually can be found lying on my side of my bed and the other dog is “Tilly Willy” who usually joins me at the foot of my bed after I have retired for the night.  I never know what he is going to do next.  A few nights again he jumped on my bed and I fell asleep with him lying next to me.  I have to say these two dogs are not small dogs:  they probably weigh over eighty pounds each.  It is comforting to me to have them join me at night.

Praise the Lord I can feed my seven cats and four dogs.  The dogs are large dogs between seventy-five and ninety pounds so it take quite a bit dog food to feed them.  The cats are not as bad although we get special cat food for them:  one cat needs a certain diet and we can’t feed him that and not the rest of the six cats a cheaper cat food.  And that does not include the bird seed I put out and the suet cakes for the woodpeckers.  It is only by grace I can do all those things.  Some families who are broke or unemployed would love to have the money we spend just on our pets (and bird seed).  Praise the Lord for all that.

I Am A Homebody

Author: siggy

I am a homebody.  The grass is not, necessarily, greener somewhere else.  One of my sisters loves to travel.  I don’t have the same wanderlust.  It is true I don’t have the financial means she has.  Nevertheless, I like being home.  I still make discoveries every day in my backyard and in my house.  I am surrounded by my books and music.  I like having them at my fingertips.  I do have seven cats and four dogs that make it more difficult to just leave and go somewhere but I love my animals, particularly my dogs, and always miss them when we go away once or twice a year.  Sometimes I visit my oldest friend in New Orleans.  And I go by myself.  It is just easier that way.  When I return from a trip, home is just that much sweeter.  As Richard Thompson says in a song, ‘Every heart needs a home.’  Even when I am home I only go out briefly.

It was an unusual night for me:  all three black animals slept in my bedroom.  That is Cool Hand Luke–one of my cats and my two black dogs–Coco and Tilla who I call my “pups” since I have had those two dogs since they were pups.  Coco always sleeps in my bedroom but it was a little unusual for Tilla.  In fact, last night he, again, slept in my bedroom.  Tilla is somewhat unpredictable.  My wife calls him ‘quirky’.  Anyway, it was comforting to me for them to be in my bedroom.  I always say good night to each animal before I close my eyes by a quick pat.

It is comforting Cool Hand Luke still sleep on my bed–usually curled up in the front of the bed in the left hand corner.  Sometimes I reach out and pet him.  He is the only cat (of seven) who will climb on my lap and stay for awhile to be petted.  He is a scrawny black cat who is the only pet left from the three I bought into this marriage.  He does have one odd habit:  he likes to run through open doors.  He must be at least eleven now.  He does not get along too well with the other cats but he is my cat.  Not that you can ever really own a cat.  They own you.

China Was Meowing

Author: siggy

China, my exotically long haired black and white cat was on the kitchen counter meowing.  That was unusual behavior.  I seldom hear him talk.  I looked around and noted the two cat dishes were completely empty so I filled them immediately.  He stopped meowing.  He got his point across.  I am sure the other six cats were also happy.  They now had food.

Unpredictable Tilla

Author: siggy

Tilla is definitely unpredictable.  My dog immediately hopped on his regular sleeping chair after I vacated it to go to bed.  Then a few minutes later he jumped on my bed–something he almost never does.  It could have been the thunderstorms we were having that evening.  My dogs were jittery about the thunderstorms.  For a short time there even were three dogs in my TV room and one cat.  Maybe Tilla was scared, too, although I could no longer hear the thunder.  I fell asleep with him laying right next to me.

Cheyenne was curled up in one of our water dishes.  I had never seen one of our cats do that before.  I guess he was getting our attention.  Both of the water dishes were completely empty.  It still was a funny sight.

Every morning I look outside my bathroom window and see that shriveled bird nest.  Last year a robin made that nest and sat in it for a week.  My wife watched it.  Then something spooked it and it did not return.  It could have been one of the cats who like to sit in that window.  You could almost reach the nest from the window.  I tried last year to peek in it to see whether there were any eggs in it but I was not able to plop a ladder under it.  My wife and I felt bad about the robin abandoning its nest.  There was nothing we could do.

Why I Love My Pets

Author: siggy

There are many reasons I love my pets.  Growing up, I had none.  It was not even an option.  I have a chance to do it all over.  At the moment, I have a menagerie–seven cats and four dogs.  I know I won’t always have that many.  I love each cat and dog.  Sure they are a responsibility.  I welcome that gladly.  Each cat and each dog is different.  Each one I have to love differently.  Not every pet responds to me.  So what.  It is a privilege to raise them.  They don’t belong to me.  Each one is on loan.  I treat each animal differently.  Like others, there are those I love more.  Cats are very different than dogs–much more independent.  I am just glad I have the opportunity to raise and love each animal.  It is a privilege and an honor.

My seven cats and four dogs enrich my life.  I have to admit only one cat (Cool Hand Luke), a completely black scrawny cat, seeks me out and snuggles up to me occasionally.  Maybe, that is because she is the only pet I had before I met my wife over ten years ago.  I have always taken care of her.  She has a favorite spot in my room, where she curls up by the window on the books I have placed there.  When she is not there at night she sleeps on my bed catercorner from me.  She does not get along too well with the other cats.

My relationship with the other six cats are all different.  Cheyenne, a beautiful long haired cat, usually does not let me pet him.  In fact, if I approach him; he goes the opposite way and looks at me with the expression “how dare you go near me.”  Jasmine, a tiny delicate female, the mother of four of our cats, does not seek me out but does not object if I pet her.

China, a long haired exotically colored black and white cat is one cool cat, supremely confidently poised cat will, also, not seek me out but certainly not turn down an hug from me.  Tiger will also not turn me down.  He has the softest fur.  Even the vet commented how soft his fur was.

Pumpkin, the only cat from Jasmine’s first litter, is just a nice cat and gets along with all the other cats.  And then there is Buttons, somewhat similar in coloring to Tiger.  He was the last cat to enter this household.  He showed up at our front door.  He is about as wild as you can be and still be a domestic cat.  He hides under our bed.  And usually goes the other way if I dare approach him.  That takes care of the cats and now I will talk briefly about our four dogs.

There is Pax, the elder, who is a ninety pound scary dog but a real scaredy cat.  He likes the sound of his own voice and will demonstrate that if he runs into the yard and seeks out the furthest right corner of the fence barking every step of the way.  He comes up to me if he wants something for he knows I will not ignore him and act quicker than my wife.  He is getting up in age–now twelve.

Now there is the golden retriever appropriately named Sweetie.  She is very tactile, loves to have something in her mouth and just can not get enough attention.  In fact, she will demand it and sit there all day while you pet her.  She is the mom of the last two dogs (Pax is the Dad) Tilla and Coco.

Coco is a long haired female who is black with a touch of red in there.  She has the most adorable fluffy ears.  She likes her privacy.  She will often go into the bed room by herself and just stay there for hours.  She will lie down there front paws crossed so delicate like completely feminine like.

The last animal I have is Tilla originally called Atilla The Hun and The Olympian.  He is the only dog who could jump the fence we had built around a large section of the yard and necessitated us building it even higher.  He is lean, aggressive and completely black and the most athletic of our four dogs.

He keeps me company as I watch TV in the evening and then sleeps in the Lazy Boy I vacate when I go to bed.  I won his love by giving him a belly rub almost every time he wanted it.  He and I have a special relationship.  He is the only dog I have given walks.  That is a brief description of my relationships I have with my eleven animals.  Each one is different.