The demographics of my household have changed dramatically over the last ten years. Ten years ago I lived with a mixed assortment of two legged and four legged creatures. At its peak capacity, my house included one spouse, four children, one hamster, one cat and one dog. The first to leave the house was Pepsi the hamster. Good riddance, I say. Pepsi met an untimely death after chewing a hole in the living room sofa. Guess he didn’t realize Olfin is not good for anyone’s digestive system. Karma is a bitch!
Soon after the poor rodent’s demise, there were high school graduations
which sent the two oldest children out into the world. Suitcases packed they moved into homes of their
own, only to discover the real world where toilet paper is an expensive item
not previously budgeted for. With the two
remaining children, the spouse at the time, I packed everyone up and headed West. A few years into our new adventure in the
city of Cows, the spouse realized he was gay and that was the end of that.
Please note that at this point in
time the two teenage children and the two animals out numbered the only adult
in the house; me. Those are not good
odds even when the teenagers are relatively uncomplicated. (Yes, my darlings you were wonderful.) The odds eventually began to shift in my
favor as more high graduates were added to the family ranks. The animal population decreased and then
soared again. Now at the decade mark, I
found myself the only two legged creature in residence. The four legged creatures number two.
As
I sit on my bed writing this tale of self -discovery, the combined weight
of ten pounds of dog lay stretched out beside me. The oldest of the pair is laying on his back,
white paws in the air and balls to the wind. The youngest, a three pound ball
of Yorkie might, is curled on the softest blanket on the bed.
Henry, the elder, came into my life
almost six years ago. I had gotten a bee in my bonnet that for some
reason, one adult, two children, one dog and one cat were not enough for our
house. No, I decided it was far too
calm. The remedy; a puppy. The dog was to be my son's. Of course, since he was the only male in the house at the time, he opted for a male puppy. Never again I say! The said boy is now grown living in an apartment where adorable dogs are not allowed. Thus, mother has custody.
Henry and I moved by ourselves a year ago. The boy and the cat went East. Henry and I went South. The odds were in my favor at that point. I was the sole human and I was bigger! However, dogs can get depressed. Henry was forlorn. No animal companions and his human had the audacity to leave him by himself when working. Finally I could take it no longer. The pitiful brown eyes made me cave. Also the fact that my sister had me looking at puppies online with her. She was in the market for a new dog after her two precious toy poodles died.
In the quest to be a good sister and support my sibling in her search, I scoured the internet looking at possible canine candidates. In the process I stumbled across an ad for Yorkie pups. Oh dear! Foolishly I went and looked. That was, as they say, the end of that. Minnie was mine, all one and half pounds of her.
Today the two legged creatures out number me again. I am content with the odds this time. Their welcome is always enthusiastic when I arrive home. Delight in my presence is perpetual, even when I am cross and cranky, which you must understand is a rare occurrence. I am thankful for the company and companionship my furry friends bring me daily. The balance is perfect. No stray cats, wayward dogs, or grown children need to appear on the doorstep! The inn is full.
PS. Today my sister and brother-in-law had to put their beloved wolfhound, Captain, to sleep. That huge, lovely beast will be deeply missed!
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