Going to the Dogs!

Dear Reader,

I'm a cat person. I've been a cat person since we got our first cat, a black stray who got caught in a piece of outdoor furniture, in 1961 or 62 when my family lived in Albuquerque, NM. This cat got the original moniker of "Kitty," and despite my Dad's grousing and my Mom's threats to take him to the pound every time we disobeyed her, he came with us when we moved to Newport, RI, via West Virginia. As a kid, I had no idea how difficult this was; as an adult, I credit my parents (especially Daddy, who built Kitty's travel cage from a milk crate) with having the heart to take him with us (in the car, no less!), rather than having him get "lost" as they easily could have done.

Sadly, Kitty was hit by a car a year or so after we got to Newport. Predictably, it was during one of the worst blizzards on record. Unpredictably, when Kitty came home, obviously injured, Daddy took him to the vet, in the blizzard, to see if he could be saved. He could not. We were only cat-less for a short time, though. Soon, we got Tommy, and a couple of others, and I have had cats as my primary pets almost continuously ever since.

As kids while we lived at home, in addition to cats we had the usual suburban zoo of other pets and guest animals: fish, turtles, mice, rats, rabbits, guinea pigs, ducks (little Easter ducklings who grew up), lizards of some sort, horses, and the occasional baby bird or other wild animal, who never survived, to great heartbreak. We never had a dog, however. We had a "guest" dog for a couple of weeks, a stray who ended up biting and who was taken to be "adopted." My youngest sister got a great dog, Bear, who was a yellow Labrador mix, at some point after I had moved away, and she was on the verge of doing so; he was sort of a family dog for several years until he ran away and never came back.

However, on my own, I have never had a dog as a pet; only cats. Make no mistake, either; I love my cats. I've gone through a few generations and a couple of major groupings. My first group was the 3 Amigos: Miss, Buddy and The Snotta. I acquired all of them in 1980, in various locations and under various (interesting) circumstances. They were a great crew, and as we went on, we became a little family. We were joined by Booboohead in 1990. Then age began to set in: Buddy died in 1993 of kidney disease; Miss went in 1995 from the long-term consequences of diabetes; The Snotta died in 1998 from the effects of a large, benign tumor in her abdomen.

In the meantime, I had taken in Winky, in 1995, after Miss died (owner didn't want her) and Kootie, in 1999 (again, owner didn't want her), after The Snotta died. I got Big Guy in 2000, when I saw him on Broadway in a cage, and decided I just had to have this cat. Nothing special; he looked like he could be Winky's BIG brother, and he had the most loving face, but no "breed" or "color." Just a regular guy, a Big Guy. The Booboohead died in 2003, of cancer of the jaw (inoperable). Winky died in October, 2006, of inoperable stomach cancer. Kootie and Big Guy continue in good health, although they should both be on diets. You try putting a cat (especially one who has ALWAYS weighed 20 pounds) on a diet!

But, over the last couple of years, I have come to know a great number of great dogs, and am starting to think about bringing a dog into the fold. This has been mostly due to my work out in the Park, and the dogs I've met have been mostly adult dogs, who have been trained and whose owners are loving and smart "parents."

I know that raising a dog from a puppy is difficult, and in some ways like raising a child, at least in terms of training the young one to be civilized. And, although I've had pretty good luck with adopting older cats (Winky was always skittish; Kootie hides under the bed for anyone but me; Big Guy is the perfect gentleman), I know that adopting an adult dog can be fraught with issues. Dogs seem to hang on to their pasts more than cats do, but again, I have met some terrific dogs who were adopted by their owners as adults, who have no issues at all.

Why would I want a dog? Well, although I know cats aren't really "moody," dogs, by contrast, are ALWAYS happy. Well, almost always. Once in a while a dog might be a little miffed because his owner isn't there, or because his dish is empty, but just as soon as his person comes in the door, or he gets some food in his dish, he's ecstatic again. Just look at a dog's face; some of the biggest smiles I've seen have been on pit-bulls, and other "scary" dogs.

Owning a dog requires one to get out of the house. Dogs don't do the "box" thing; they need to go au naturelle. In addition, of course, most dogs are too large to get sufficient exercise indoors; dogs need to run, jump and play, and they need social interactions with other dogs. They are, at base, pack animals, and I think their influence in many cases helps singular people have some social life. It's not as if I'm a troubled loner, but on the other hand, it wouldn't hurt to have some social interactions which weren't laden with other pressures, as are my work, chorus, and sometimes my Park encounters.

However, before I would take on the responsibility of dog ownership, I would (and continue to) think through both sides of the question. Could I regularize my schedule to walk a dog, and get him out to play enough? Doubtful at this point. Could I clear out enough stuff from my apartment to give a dog enough room to walk around comfortably? Not likely right now. Could Big Guy and Kootie deal with a canine baby sibling, or worse a doggy big brother? No way!

As with kids, I'll have to continue having a dog vicariously for now. Well, with kids, I don't have any other choice at the moment. With a dog, I'm going to take the responsible road, and not take one on until I am really equipped to do so. In the meantime, I love my cats, and am thinking about getting another one. That would fit better with where I am now. And I'll continue to enjoy the doggies out in the Park, around the neighborhood, in my building, and where ever else I run into them.

How much is that doggie in the window?

More later,
Catbird