The Not So Secret Lives of Pets

Sam and I celebrated our wedding anniversary a couple of weeks ago. This has been the summer — well, actually the year — of calamities. Our anniversary date night had to be postponed awhile. Overloaded breaker boxes, backed up plumbing, a sick cat, and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) conspired against us. But today we made it to the movie theater, with free tickets in hand won from a sweepstakes.

This is the first day in awhile that I’ve felt well enough to go somewhere I didn’t absolutely have to go. Music lessons and the vet last week were mandatory. Most everything else has either been skipped, like church, or relegated to poor Sam to take care of, like grocery shopping.  And that’s when he wasn’t wrangling with plumbing snakes and vent pipes.

A couple of weeks ago I discovered the supplement D-Ribose. It has helped some with the crushing fatigue and brain fog. It makes short trips out of the house much easier. So today we went to see The Secret Lives of Pets. We had to be the oldest couple in the room who did not have small children in tow. But we laughed right along with the rest of them. Leonard the poodle slays me every time.

Leonard from The Secret Lives of Pets

Back on the home front, Kathryn babysat our animals. None of these four-legged children of ours likes it when their daddy leaves the house for long. It’s rare when that happens. When it does, they revert to whiney-baby mode. When I go with him, there’s apparently some shift in the space-time continuum. Usually no one is left behind to make a report. But Kathryn witnessed it today.

The cats became distressed and would not settle their own selves down for their afternoon nap. Dobby began to cry loudly — so loudly, in fact, that she woke Mike up from a sound sleep. They wanted someone with whom they could cuddle. Beggars can’t be choosers. Kathryn would just have to do.

If they wouldn’t knead with their claws while climbing all over a person, it wouldn’t be so bad. My granny used to call it “making bread.” Kat was not putting up with that. They could sit by her but not on her… take it or leave it. Dobby was highly offended by these terms and gave her babysitter the stink eye before curling up with sister Hermione.

If you take your eyes off Harry, she’ll get the dog riled up. And if the guinea pig senses even the slightest distubance in the Force, she goes into beaver mode and gnaws loudly and incessantly on her cage, which gets the cats’ attention, which riles the dog, ad nauseum…

While the pet owners in our movie were oblivious to the secret lives of their own animals, we are pretty certain we have ours down to a science. Our pets’ lives consist of being spoiled rotten, whiney little stinkers. All Daddy’s girls. Every single one of them. All big babies pampered more than most folks’ animals. No secret about that. Not that we’d have it any other way.

Pet Collage
Top left: Harry on the Barney blankie. Top right: Dobby on the counter & Hermione in the bread box.  Bottom left: Blondie piggie. Bottom right: Holly finds a cat-free corner.

© 2015-2016 Our Lives in Stories

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