My Fur Babies: An introduction

Hi Y'all,

First of all, thank you for giving my first post a look-see.  As of today, I've had 148 hits.  And yes, since I'm a little OCD (Just a little), I've checked the number about 30 times in three days!   (My settings don't register when I visit my blog).   I just can't help myself!   To think that 148 people would take the time to read my blog post....well, let's just say, y'all made my day.

Now, you'll notice I use the phrase y'all a lot.  First:  I'm not from Texas.  I'm not even from the south.  My husband is the Texan.   And yes, the accent is rather endearing.  But friends, I'm a Yooper.  And for those of you who don't know what that means:  I'm from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  We're a special breed up there.  We have our own language and our own colloquialisms...Like...."Ya, Sure, Youbetcha, hey?"   Or,  "I think we're out of paper towelling."  Or, "Youse Guys coming with us?"

But the Y'all....that's something I picked up from my hubby...

I mentioned the loves of my life in my first post.  Today, I'm going to introduce the fur-babies.   Some of my future posts will be about them....so you might want to recognize these lovely faces:

That's Del and me.  His smile is infectious.  When I married him 22 years ago, he had a LOT of hair, both on his head and on his face. Because of that, he qualified as one of my fur babies.   Let's just say....time changes things.  ;-)   In this picture I think I had just stuck some goodie in my mouth (a chronic habit of mine!)!.  

Del's a good guy.  He's got the best sense of humor, although it can be on the dry side.  

He shares the same love for animals that I do.  The only exception...BIRDS LOVE HIM!    Me, they hate.  He's been the proud owner of some very special birds in our 22 years of marriage.  To name a few:  A Yellow Nape Amazon by the name of Lizzie, who willingly regurgitated her food at him anytime she laid eyes on him (a sign of true love in the bird world), a beautiful senegal parrot named Zeke, (Del's soul bird) who we had to put to sleep due to lead poisoning (a story I'll share in another blog), a breathtaking,  sweet, hand-tame, nectar-eating Rainbow Lorikeet named Liz (who became un-hand-tame when I stuck her under a warm faucet to remove all the sticky nectar on, in, and under all her feathers while Del was on a business trip).  After that experience it dawned on me why birds hate me - and I was no longer permitted to care for his birds.   DUH?!!!

Back to Del.   The more tired he gets, the sillier he gets.  By 9:30 at night it is not uncommon to hear him laughing like a heyena in the bathroom as he shaves and gets ready for bed.   I'm usually not privy to the private jokes he's telling himself, but I gotta tell you, just hearing his hoots from the bathroom gets me to laughing too.

Del is not a morning person.  Me?  I wake up with a smile on my face ready to engage with the world.   Suffice it to say, best to not talk to "you know who"  until he's had a few cups of coffee,  his snuggle time with all four critters in this house, and he's spiffed up to go to work.  Even then, he's a man of few words.

We're different in a lot of ways.  He's introverted; I'm extroverted.  He's a thinker; I'm a talker. Actually, I process my thoughts as I talk.  

He's thin.  I'm.....NOT.  (Already told y'all about THAT)!

We both like Art.  The Theater.  Music.   He's instrumental and rock; I'm Country through and through with a little Christian Pop.

Next comes Enzo.  Enzo is my 7 year-old male Italian Greyhound.    I got him from the late Lifeline Italian Greyhound Rescue in June, 2011,  three days afer having to put my first "iggy" (Inky) to sleep.

Just a year before that,  I had to put my soul dog, Kirby, to sleep at the ripe age of 16 due to cancer. (I'll post about that experience another time).   I never imagined I'd have another soul dog in my lifetime.  Enzo was being fostered in Minneapolis, MN., a 4 1/2 hour drive from Madison, WI.  Both my husband and my BFF, Jenn,  were unsure about me getting another dog so shortly after the death of Inky.  So, they made a pact.   They would humor me.  Jenn and I would drive to Minneapolis to to do a meet-and-greet.  However, no way, no how, would we be leaving with this dog UNLESS and UNTIL Jenn and I left the premises, WENT AND HAD LUNCH to DISCUSS this dog, and then discussed it some more.  Then, and only then, IF I had Jenn's blessing, would that dog be coming home with us.

Somehow I knew, tho.   You see, Inky had the same ears.  One up, one down.  And all my animals have quirks.  So, that silly tongue sticking out of Enzo's mouth surely fit as a qualifier.  My heart fell in love with his picture.

All the way up to Minneapolis Jenn tried to keep me from getting excited.  She told me not to get my hopes up.  She reminded me about the lunch requirement....over.  And Over.  

            

We drove up to this cute little house.  I sat in the car for a few minutes deep breathing.  Terrified.  What if I wouldn't be able to discern whether this dog was the right dog for me?  What if the foster mom didn't like me?  What if I liked the dog and wanted to bring him home, but Jenn didn't?

Mustering up the courage to walk to the door, I rang the bell.   A beautiful lady answered...the squeaky clean kind of beauty that shines from inside out.  She ushered Jenn and me into her living room.   Her dog Titus jumped up on the couch to say hello, and Enzo, before I had time to even look at him, literally FLEW onto my lap, wrapped his arms around either side of my neck, laid his head against my extra large chest, and let out this huge sigh.    His tongue...that glorious big tongue, plastered against my face.  Katie said, "I've never seen him do that to anyone like that...I think he's claimed you."    I took one look at Jenn.  She took one look at me.  Then, with a half grin on her face, she announced..."Guess we won't be needing to go have that lunch talk."     And that was that.   Enzo came home.  Jenn drove.  I passionately held, cuddled, and nuzzled my new soul dog.    From the very first second we were bonded.  He is quirky, funny, and makes me laugh often.  When I'm not paying enough attention to him, he nibbles my chin and ear lobes.  And when he goes to sleep at night, he backs himself up to my belly and spoons with me.  My hand rests on his chest and I feel his heart beat and his chest rise and fall.  And no matter how stressful my day has been, at that moment, all is right with the world.  I kept his name Enzo.  But added a middle name -- Emmanuel, which means, "God With Us."  Truly, God had hand picked this dog for me.  God, indeed, was with me.

Next comes Mia:  Mia is my 6 year-old female Italian Greyhound.  After falling in love with Enzo, I decided I would like to get another Iggy.  A companion, of sorts, for my little tongue boy.  Most iggy owners agree that they're like potato chips, you can't have just one.   And since I like potato chips...A LOT and iggies...A LOT, makes sense to me!   

I contacted Lifeline once again and asked that they be on the lookout for a good match.  The gal who ran that rescue, Jenny, was very skilled at matching up dogs with dogs and dogs with people.  She just has the knack.  Eight months later she called me about a rescue for which she didn't have a foster home.  She made me an offer:  Would I drive up to Upper Wisconsin and pick up this biggie iggie, (MIA), and foster her for two weeks while she looked for another foster home?  IF, in the two weeks I agreed to foster her, I fell in love with her and she turned out to be a good match with Enzo

and my hubby, I would have first dibs on her.    Two weeks later, she was ours -- though it took less than a week to decide that she was definitely a part of our family.  Mia is a needy girl.  She loves passionately.  And she wants you to love her passionately....Every.  Minute.  And.  Every.  Second.  Of. Every. Day. And. Night.  She is a little skittish with some men.  But when she decides you are on her "acceptable" list, she will worship you.  Openly.  Unabashedly.  And she loves my BFF most.  We joke, saying that Jenn just lets us keep her here.   You see, when we picked her up she was terrified.  She shook like a rattling pressure cooker.  This time, on the way home, I drove.  Enzo as my backseat driver.

Jenn sat in the backseat with arms wrapped around Mia.  She became Mia's savior.  Her God.

I'm number one when Jenn is not here visiting.  I do not exist, however, when Jenn is at our house.     Mia is a good fit.  And she is beautiful.  

And then came Rocket Man.  When Del and I moved to Madison, WI from Yorktown, VA, we decided to get a cat.  We adopted a black and brown tabby named Ghettie.  We had her for 15 years.  She worshiped Del; He adored her.  Unfortunately, she, too, had to be put to sleep just this past July due to renal failure.   For awhile, Del said he didn't want to get another cat.   But I could tell....his soul needed one.   I tried not to push the subject....we all have our grieving to do.    One day, several months later, while he was painting a room in the house, I suggested we go look at a local humane society....just to see what was out there.  No commitments.  No expectations.  Just a cheap date.  :-)     After a little hemming and hawing he decided a break would be nice, and he would humor me.    We looked at several cats (most of their kittens were adopted the weekend before), but there was this one year old....a brown and black tabby....that Del took a liking to.  We were about to leave, when Del asked the worker there if he thought "July" would be adopted very quickly.   He was advised that because July was only a year old, in good health, and was quite social, that he would probably be one of the first adopted.    Del, one who takes a while to make a final decision about most things, asked if there was a way to put July on "hold."  We walked out 15 minutes later having put a $20 hold on the little guy, so that Del could think it over.   Forty Eight  hours later "July" got sprung from jail and came to his forever home...   He has a kitten-like mew in a cat body.  He is sweet and mischevious and absolutely loves everybody, although he's a little laid back.  His favorite activity:  Being held in Del's arms, hiding his face.  And.   Counter surfing!    Ahem!   He DOES NOT like squirt bottles.  Especially when they are pointed right in his face.  Which, I might add, is often.

   

And then came Finn....

Finnegan, AKA Finn, or sometimes more frequently called Little S_ _ t, is the shot of expresso in our house.  

After we decided to officially adopt Rocket Man, we knew we needed to buy some Cat Trees.  Rocket Man still has his claws, and part of the adoption agreement stipulated that we would not de-claw him.  So, I had two days to go out and research Cat Trees.  I looked on-line at local cat suppy stores to narrow the running around to a minimum.  I finally decided to visit a Store on the West Side of Madison called MAD CAT.   I was to go an hour and a half ahead of Del, narrow the selections to just a couple, and then he would come and look them over.    HA!    I walked into the store with one intention....find a cat tree.  But there, in a little cage, sat this orange 3-month-old beauty they were calling Frodo.  There ARE priorities in life, you know.   And this little imp became mine.   I immediately forgot my cat tree mission, picked up the kitty from the cage, and proceded on to my next mission...

Cat toys....I was there for cat toys!  (If you're going to have A.D.D., you might as well enjoy it, right?).    So, after looking at cat toys for at least an hour, all the while carrying said little orange kitty in my arms like a baby, I finally did make it over to the cat trees.   And yes, eventually we bought one.   (Really, we bought two....)

I'm not sure how long it was before Del showed up.

 

He walked into the store, took one look at the kitty in my arms and says, "No, we are not getting two cats...Absolutely not."

Well here, my friends, is the pay off of being married 22 years and knowing how to manipulate your husband.

I agreed with him.

We walked out of that store having ordered one cat tree, to be delivered the next day.  Once it was in place, we would go get Rockt Man.   Signed, sealed, delivered.

We did not walk out with an orange kitty.

The following day I called MAD HAT from the privacy of my bathroom and asked if the orange kitty was still there.  Answer:  yes.  I inquired about how one could go about adopting him.   (They showcase them in the store for a local rescue: Dane County Friends of Ferrals).  Later that night, after filling out an on-line adoption request, I sat back and prayed.   Yup.  I prayed that they would choose us.  I prayed that my husband wouldn't kill me.  Then I went and broached the topic with Del again.....

He wasn't thrilled....his answer was still No.  I think he thought he had a good "out" in his pocket.    He said, "Call Pam.  Ask HER what she thinks about the idea."    Pam is our vet.  She's also a dear friend.  So, even though Pam was on vacation, I texted her.  She said, "Only get a second kitty if you want a second kitty.  Don't do it because you want a companion for the other one.  BUT:   if you do get a second kitty, make sure both kitties are male, that both have been neutured, and that the new one is quite a bit younger than the first one.   I texted back that Rocket Man was fixed and one year old.  Finney, a male, was 3 months old and neutered.  Neither tested positive for Feline Leukemia.  She texted back her blessing!

Presented with this information, Del still said no.  But, however, he said he would give it some thought.  He said he'd let me know in the morning.

Like I said, after 22 years of marriage I've learned a few things.  With Del, you don't push.  You suggest.  You pray.  You wait.  

Saturday morning I got up, hoping he'd be up, jumping up and down with a positive answer.  But he wasn't.  Dejectedly, I dressed and left for a standing meeting that I attend.    

I knew it was a long shot.  Yet, something inside me felt like that kitty was supposed to be ours.

The meeting was just about to commence.  I happened to look up, and there was my husband's face looking in the window.   He pointed at me....crooked his finger to step out.

Once the door was closed behind me, he took my hand and said, "You really really want that kitty, don't you?"   I had tears in my eyes.  I told him yes.  He said, "Okay....I'll meet you there around 12:30."

Three hours later Frodo, renamed "Finnegan" came home to meet his brother Rocket Man.  Within 24 hours they were the best of friends.

                                                                     

Finnegan is a walking purr factory.  He plays hard, He sleeps hard.   He can be ping-ponging around the house, knocking things from counters, bookshelves, china hutch, and then fall in a golden heap and sleep like an angel.  He eats paper.  Any kind of paper.  Mail especially.  (Wish he'd just eat the bills and not the handwritten letters).    He and Rocket sleep together, groom each other, and both follow Del around like they are dogs instead of cats.  

Recently Del came in to the room I was sitting in, hands in his side pockets.  He wanted to talk.  And since he's not really much of a talker....when he says he wants to, I'm all ears.   After a momentary pause, he said, "You were right PeggyAnn.  I needed Rocket Man.  And I needed Finnegan too.  Thank you."

Music to my ears....

With two dogs and two cats in our home there's a lot of chaos:  running, chasing, playing, swatting biting, and barking.   There's a lot of life here.  

...and a lot of love.  

I wouldn't have it any other way.