The Dol and Her Menagerie

Ramblin' Jack once said that if he's reincarnated, he wants to come back as one of my pets. I will not deny that they are pampered and well loved. 

They have pet beds, cat condos, and a wide assortment of toys and chewies. They all have multiple nicknames. Songs, even. 

And we do that thing where we talk for them. 

You know the thing. Where you sort of channel the animal's thoughts in a goofy "animal" voice. It is totally dorky. And my entire family, every one of us college educated, does it.

My brother, The Skipper, is famous for giving each pet an entire persona. He has been known to carry on entire conversations with a family member through the dog. 

I know it sounds weird, people, but you have to know how hilarious it is to see someone respond, totally seriously, to what "the dog" is saying. I admit, I have done it myself.

The Skipper's dog, Charlie, is an excessively cute dog. He's also an expensive, purebred French Bulldog. 

Don't let that fool you: he still poops under my Christmas tree every year. You can't buy sophistication, apparently.

In contrast with Charlie, Baby Doc and I have an odd assortment of strays and stragglers that live at our house. We are big believers in adopting animals through rescue organizations, and not from breeders. 

It's an especially big deal now, with the economy in the toilet and the mortgage crisis forcing so many families out of their homes. Most shelters are overrun with surrendered "foreclosure" pets. 

My in-laws just adopted a poodle today, in fact, from a rescue group. The dog was given up by a man and his young son, who were literally living in their car just so they could keep the dog. The son was apparently very attached to him. When they finally decided they had to go to a homeless shelter, they had to give the dog up. 

Does that not suck the big one? Who wants to go buy an expensive poodle from a breeder when there is an animal like that one out there who needs a home? 

I'm just sayin', people. You know how I am with my soapbox. Consider that the public service announcement portion of this post.

Back to my own happy, no-longer-homeless lovelies.

There's Turtle, my grey cat with white socks. 

She's paranoid, which is why I posted this particular photo of her. Although, to be fair, sometimes they actually are out to get her. (The dogs, that is.)

I adopted Turtle when she was living the hobo lifestyle a few blocks away from my parents. She scaled my pants leg the first time I went to pet her in a neighbor's yard. I took that as "Get me the hell out of here." So I did.

We also have Peanut, a black ball of pure cat love. Peanut is the Barry White of the cat world. We like to imagine that he would be an R&B crooner if he knew enough English. 

As it is, Peanut, who can't sing "Let's Get It On," resorts to the occasional dry hump of Turtle, who is, sadly, an unwilling participant in his amorous affection. 

He's neutered, which only adds to the hilarity for our household, and probably increases Turtle's humiliation, as well. 

It's a fine balance over here.

We got Peanut from the local shelter, where he had been for many months when we adopted him. Most people want kittens, not cats of indeterminate age. It was fortunate for us, because he is a sweet boy.

Peanut not only loves Turtle, he also loves our dogs. 

Olivia is our German Shepherd, from the same local shelter as Peanut. Olivia is sweet, loyal, and smart. She's also bossy. She herds the cats, and generally tries to dominate anyone who will let her.

Don't worry--we don't. We watch "The Dog Whisperer," people. Excercise, discipline, affection. 

We got it. We exude a calm, assertive presence. Mostly.

Which leads to the story of the fourth pet in the lineup. César Millán, better known as The Dog Whisperer, did a show once that featured an animal rescue group in Southern California. I decided it would be a great idea for me to contact the rescue group and foster a dog for them. (I'm a sucker with a bleeding heart, people.) 

Yeah, so I'm not allowed to foster animals anymore, because I keep them.

Frodo is a strange-looking fellow with helicopter ears. He was supposed to stay with us as a foster until the rescue organization found him a permanent home. 

Well, they found him a permanent home. With me.

Frodo is a catahoula leopard dog, a breed most people have never heard of, and he has three legs. One of his back legs had to be removed by a vet in Mexico (that's where he's from, amigos). I'm always telling people not to feel sorry for him, though. He's a happy guy and he gets around just fine. 

Not to mention, he's athletic enough that if he had all four legs, he'd probably escape from our yard on a regular basis.

Those are my fur babies. I love them. I love them, love them, love them. They cheer me up, they crack me up, they frequently wake me up. 

And it's all good. They are pure love, and I will take that anytime I can get it.

Comments

[Bookgirl]

I'll happily play with other people's pets, and stop on the street to pet a particularly cute dog. And there have been a few animals I've genuinely loved. But on the whole I feel the same way about people's pets as I do about their husbands and kids. I'm happy that they make you happy. And I think maybe I'd like for someone to love me that way. But mostly I'm just grateful they live at your house, and you're the one who has to take care of them. I can come over and visit, then go back to my own quiet apartment.

[Polly]

I am so glad Peanut, "aka Jesus of the House" hasn't visited his holy humping spirit on my leg. I'm not sure I'd recover.

As the person most likely to lose one of your pets while pet-sitting, I count myself lucky to be allowed near your lovelies. They are, indeed, very sweet, but what, quite frankly, would they have to be surly about? Life is good for a Dol pet.

[Pandora]

Like the Skipper, Papa Gangsta Pete had created a persona for our black labrador puppy, Zinfandel. I have had conversations with my dog via my dad translating.

I worship the ground my cat, Tigger, walks on. When I'm home she's never more than 5 feet away from me. We eat breakfast in bed together and surf Facebook.

Our strong bond comes from when she was so sick for about two weeks, that I had to nurse her back to health. I forced fed her every two hours and bought tons of special medecine for her. We're still not sure what disease she had.

She's completely fine now.

[Alice]

Oh, Dol, I'm so with you on this one. I can totally relate with the voices, personas, talking for and through the digs, etc.

In fact we have created such a persona for my Chihuahua (Santos) and our new lab/ Chow mix (Hank) that sometimes we find ourselves actually believing the madness we've created.

For example Santos is snippy and spends his life trying to get back to the streets of Mexico, where he believes he grew up, so that he can partake in burritos and cervesa and run wild without rules and shit where he pleases. We sometimes double check that he hasn't escaped when he's playing in the back yard because we have convinced ourselves that he really is trying to get to Mexico.

And then there is poor Hank, who we got from a no kill shelter where he had been for over a year after being abandoned by two different families. We have created quite the persona for him, He's a nervous 12 year old who likes to hold hands and is over protective of hid Dad. We do this to the extreme that we actually feel sorry for the dog when we go out to dinner because we have convinced ourselves that he is worried we won't return.

I'd love to tell you all about the relationship and conversations we have created between the two dogs but at fear of sounding positively mad, I'll refrain.

Your pets are sooo cute. Maybe sometime you will allow one of them to post? I'm pretty sure Santos might steal my computer sometime and write a post for me. It's happened before....

[The Dol]

@Bookgirl, my pets are totally cool with fair-weather friends. You can visit them any time.

@Polly, I should explain the Jesus of the House thing for everyone. Peanut likes to sit on top of our kitchen cabinets, so we call him Lord of the Kitchen. Joey then started calling him Jesus of the Kitchen, which, of course, John and I shamelessly encourage.

@Pandora, your Tigger is a true fur friend. I can't wait to meet Zinny. The video of her bouncing around in the snow about killed me with the cute.

@Alice, you are my kind of girl. I totally, totally understand the elaborate personalities that you have created for your pups. You should--no, you *must*, I insist--read "Dog on It." Bookgirl sent it to me a while back, and I heart it so much. It's a mystery novel that is written from the point of view of the dog owned by a private investigator. It is so wonderful. Promise me you'll read it.

[Diosa]

Very cute pets. We always had cats growing up. Always strays. But with the allergies and asthma around here, we stick with fish and lizards. I have to admit, it's quieter and easier that way.

[Mattie]

I am not being mean here at all but your dog frodo has gremlin ears. I swear...watch the movie and you will be shocked. Just don't feed him after midnight!
As far as pets I want a dog almost as much as I want a girlfriend. Or maybe it is the other way around. Then again a dog wouldn't care that I am reading book four of the Vampire Academy...a girlfriend might!
By the way my name is Matthew but my friends call me Mattie pronounced (Maddie)...it's a Scottish thing I guess.

[The Dol]

@Diosa, I haven't really been able to get into the reptile thing. They just aren't cuddly enough for me. They can be really cool to look at, though.

@Mattie, do you live in Scotland? I am obsessed with Jamie Fraser, a Scottish Highlander in the book "Outlander." Scottish men are totally hot. If you get a dog, women will flock to you. It's true. Get a dog, take it to the park, watch what happens.

And yes, I agree on the Gremlin ears. I am, sadly, old enough to have watched that movie when it was actually released. We won't speak of that.

Also, just wanted to say it has been great having you post here. Your comments are hilarious.

[Mattie]

I would love to live in Scotland...but alas I live half the year in Jackson WY and half the year in Seattle. But like every good Scotsman I don't wear underwear...TMI I am sure. My family names are Wheeler, McQueen, and Kazuko, and with that mix I look a bit like your dog Frodo! Thanks for letting me share my thoughts on this blog, I love the writing, and the format. I am pretty sure I would fall head over heals for any of you because I only fall for Fabulous women...except for my ex Jill...she was not so Fabulous but I think she drugged me...for three years.

Cheers lassy!

[The Dol]

Jackson and Seattle are cool places. Not that I've ever been to Jackson, but it has that western allure thingy.

Speaking of no underwear, I saw a guy at the mechanic today in a kilt. Woo-hoo!

You can tell us we are fabulous all day long, Mattie, and that would be *just fine*. Compliments and flattery are always welcome.

You'll need to tell us more about Jill so we can badmouth her for you.

[Pandora]

Seattle is my #2 west coast city!

[Mattie]

Ok...I have finished book four making me either the greatest boyfriend material ever or a big fat loser...in my favor I am a great kisser and very romantic...against I snore and those diamond commercials with the shadows and the cello music make me tear up.

Jill was a Strigoi that held me hostage and sucked my blood on a daily basis for fun. Yes her kiss was a drug, but she was only interested in possessing my soul for her own amusement. She was pure evil...and I was a sad man until I escaped/got dumped?!? But I think everyone needs a 'Jill' in their lifetime...makes us stronger.