the PETS!

 Do you all remember your pets through the years? One of my favorite memes is the one that shows all your pets rushing to meet you at the pearly gates (assuming that's where I'm headed...who knows?). It all started with a dog named Punch.

Punch was a beagle. I was already born, and the parents thought it would be great to name him Punch (and Judi - get it?). Punch was a howler, as all beagles are. He also chewed up many things, including woodwork in our little house on Valley Rd in Lordship. I remember dressing him up and putting him in the baby carriage and walking him through the neighborhood. He sat there, in his bonnet and didn't try to get away at all! At least that's how I remember it. To hear my Mom and Dad tell it, years later, he was an escape artist, always running off to see the neighbors' dogs...as Mom got fatter that winter of 1962, Punch had to go to the farm. Nancy was born that March, and I always link that to Punch going to the farm. 

The next animal was a cat...tiger named Denny. I remember her as a she so not sure why her name was Denny. She was pretty - typical tiger with black, gray and white coloring. I'm pretty sure she was fixed as I don't remember any kittens being born. By then, we had moved to Hemlock St and Mom was getting fat again. No dogs yet. Denny was an in and out cat so no litter box, although that didn't become an issue for pregnant women till years later. Denny also got dressed up in doll clothes and pushed in the stroller with my sister Nancy, who was 3. Nancy always had many scratches on her arms and face as she didn't let Denny go. I do think Denny hated her. She never sat on anyone's lap except my Mom's. Dad claimed he didn't like cats, but always gave Denny lunchmeat and cheese. 

Denny lived to be about 20, which meant she came with us to Lordship Rd. Amy was with us by then. Denny had no patience for dress up anymore and was pretty much an indoor cat by that time.She did go outside and took care of her business in Dad's veggie garden, which pissed him off to no end. But how do you get mad at a 20 year old geriatric cat? Sadly, Denny left us shortly after we moved to Lordship Rd.

Our lobbying after Denny left us led to getting a dog.  The infamous Peanuts! A toy fox terrier mix, he was a bastard. High strung, never got fixed, he was spiteful and just all around crazy. Put me off little dogs for a very long time. Black with bits of white on his legs and belly, he couldn't have weighed more than 20 pounds. Peanuts liked to leave a little something for whoever ticked him off that day - on the rug next to their bed. He was Dad's dog, really, because they were the only males in the house. He could open the front door, and the sun porch door. Once in the back yard, he would scoot under the gate and head out to the street to catch a fight with whoever was walking by. Sometimes he stayed in the back yard, scooted under the way back fence and knocked up our neighbors' female dogs (also small). Not everyone got their pets fixed in those days.Likely were over 100 descendants of his around Lordship and elsewhere. 

Since we got a dog, Mom got a Siamese cat. Sweet Kanje sadly wouldn't stay in the house and got hit by a car while still a kitten. Then Mom got another Siamese that became gigantic and was the King of the house for many years. I can't remember his name! 

Gramma walked him right by the house almost every day. Peanuts would go ballistic in the way that little shit dogs do. She couldn't hold onto that larger dog and if we could get to the big door, we could close it before Tippy got there and call his mother to come get him. By this time, we locked the storm so Peanuts couldn't get out anymore. 

My Dad was home one day and he heard the dogs crazy snarling and barking - the big door was open and there was a dog on each side of the storm. My grandmother, Nonny, was living with us by then. She told Dad she never heard it - I do call bullshit on that. By the time Dad got to the door, Peanuts had broken the glass and Tippy had him by the throat. Dad (hates blood and guts) got Peanuts out of the doorway after he punched Tippy, put his hands over wound, grabbed kitchen towels out the door and took him to the vet, who saved his life! 

We all still can't believe my Dad did that...Tippy's mom paid for the surgery and everything. Peanuts was out making more puppies in 2 months! Within a year, though, Tippy had gotten loose and came to get Peanuts for good...Nancy was the only one home...poor Peanuts was dead on the stoop.  He was buried in the backyard, and Tippy went to the farm. No more puppies from the cute females in the backyard.

2 years later, we got Greta, a Nana dog.She was a Golden Retriever that one of my Mom's UB students couldn't bring back to his country. About 18 months old, she was rambunctious. She was totally bossed by the Siamese, and they typically ended up sleeping together on the carpet in the living room and in the kitchen. Greta became the sweetest dog ever! She couldn't back up though. She would try to follow the cat behind the couch and then get stuck.We had to move the couch to get her out, every time! 

In addition to Greta and the Siamese, I got a cat, and then so did Amy. Now we had 3 cats and Greta. Good thing Greta loved the cats! Amy's cat and my cat had kittens, then we got the cats fixed! Everyone clammored to get a kitten - there were 7, as I recall, and they were all tigers - ginger and black, grey and white.

At this point, I got married and moved out. No pets were allowed in our first place, so my sweet tiger stayed in Lordship. Eventually, we had kids and brought them to see the menagerie on Lordship Rd. My kids still remember Greta,  but not the cats, except the Siamese. Our family's animals will be featured in another piece.

My sister Nancy, bless her, got her own Siamese years after Mom's passed. Saki became a second generation Siamese fat cat - the Bumble was his nickname! Amy took her ginger tabby with her when she married, and after he moved on to the farm, they got a Lab, who is a sweetie pie. 

Why did I write about the PETS? Having 2 of my granddogs here over Christmas reminded me how entertaining our pets are, and how dependent upon us they can be. The golden doodle will  be with us for awhile, the big pit went back with his mum and dad after New Years. Rooka, the mini, is missing him,of course. But poop patrol is a bit easier (only need 1 bag!) and dinner time is too. No toy battles to sort out, there are plenty of antlers around for Rooka to chomp on. Rico isn't here to annoy and tease her, as she did to him.