Who let the dogs out?
So I had another night of horrible sleep. This time I can blame the neighborhood dogs. They started barking like crazy in the middle of the night. It took me a second to realize why they were barking so much. If I had to venture a translation, in Doginese, they were saying something along the lines of “It is cold, let us in” or “come on man, I’m freezing.” As far as weather goes, they are allowed to complain, because they live outside. If I hear another person complain about it being cold, I’m gonna snap. It is February! It is suppose to be cold! Complaining about the cold in Florida is like complaining about the pope being too liberal. I’m sure the good people of Kenosha would be dancing naked in the street if their low was in the mid-30s.
The whole thing got me thinking about this odd symbiosis we have with pets. I did feel pretty guilty this morning. My roommates and I have a cat, or more accurately the cat has us. She started coming around and somewhere along the line one of us decided to feed her. Well we should have rolled out a “Cat Hostel” sign, because I swear she has cousins in Germany visiting. Our house has now become the hottest night spot for the Felix domesticus of northeast Florida. The great thing is they like to congregate outside my window and screw or fight. I can not call it because it all sounds and looks the same.
So this morning the cat (my unattached neutral name for her) really really wanted to come inside. She was lying on the door when I went out to feed her and she just kept giving me this “may I please come in and get warm” look. I was hoping not to start caring too much for this cat. I never gave her a name in the hopes she could just be a wild animal like the various birds that hang around our yard. I also made a point not to know the name my roommates gave her (for the record it is IKEA or something similar to that.) I guess on another blog I explore why people name animals after things like Tibetan gods of the dead. She looks more like a Lafawnda to me.
So here she is staring at me and tearing my heart out. I’m not a cat person. I don’t have any option on this issue, because if I invite her in, the net effect on my breathing would be about the equivalent of putting a big pot of Mop and Glow on the oven, boiling it and throwing a towel over my head and sucking in the fumes. I think of all the cats in my neighborhood she is probably the one that most needs a real actual home. She is so sweet and would make a great house pet. At one point we inquired about getting her fixed and the human society wanted $300. WTF? I guess they would much rather euthanize a cat than stop the unwanted generations of homeless cats to come. The fact that once spring rolls around she will in all likelihood become the hottest peace of cat action on the block breaks my heart. I guess my problem is I have become attached to this cat. In fact. I like all the cats that have taken refuge underneath my house. As much as I would like to think that calling animal control would give them the opportunity to find good homes, I know that living out in the cold and having our cat food handouts is a far better life than the one they would have at the pound up against younger and cutter kittens. Right now we exist under the radar of animal control. I’d like to keep it that way.
So I had another night of horrible sleep. This time I can blame the neighborhood dogs. They started barking like crazy in the middle of the night. It took me a second to realize why they were barking so much. If I had to venture a translation, in Doginese, they were saying something along the lines of “It is cold, let us in” or “come on man, I’m freezing.” As far as weather goes, they are allowed to complain, because they live outside. If I hear another person complain about it being cold, I’m gonna snap. It is February! It is suppose to be cold! Complaining about the cold in Florida is like complaining about the pope being too liberal. I’m sure the good people of Kenosha would be dancing naked in the street if their low was in the mid-30s.
The whole thing got me thinking about this odd symbiosis we have with pets. I did feel pretty guilty this morning. My roommates and I have a cat, or more accurately the cat has us. She started coming around and somewhere along the line one of us decided to feed her. Well we should have rolled out a “Cat Hostel” sign, because I swear she has cousins in Germany visiting. Our house has now become the hottest night spot for the Felix domesticus of northeast Florida. The great thing is they like to congregate outside my window and screw or fight. I can not call it because it all sounds and looks the same.
So this morning the cat (my unattached neutral name for her) really really wanted to come inside. She was lying on the door when I went out to feed her and she just kept giving me this “may I please come in and get warm” look. I was hoping not to start caring too much for this cat. I never gave her a name in the hopes she could just be a wild animal like the various birds that hang around our yard. I also made a point not to know the name my roommates gave her (for the record it is IKEA or something similar to that.) I guess on another blog I explore why people name animals after things like Tibetan gods of the dead. She looks more like a Lafawnda to me.
So here she is staring at me and tearing my heart out. I’m not a cat person. I don’t have any option on this issue, because if I invite her in, the net effect on my breathing would be about the equivalent of putting a big pot of Mop and Glow on the oven, boiling it and throwing a towel over my head and sucking in the fumes. I think of all the cats in my neighborhood she is probably the one that most needs a real actual home. She is so sweet and would make a great house pet. At one point we inquired about getting her fixed and the human society wanted $300. WTF? I guess they would much rather euthanize a cat than stop the unwanted generations of homeless cats to come. The fact that once spring rolls around she will in all likelihood become the hottest peace of cat action on the block breaks my heart. I guess my problem is I have become attached to this cat. In fact. I like all the cats that have taken refuge underneath my house. As much as I would like to think that calling animal control would give them the opportunity to find good homes, I know that living out in the cold and having our cat food handouts is a far better life than the one they would have at the pound up against younger and cutter kittens. Right now we exist under the radar of animal control. I’d like to keep it that way.
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