Better than Chocolate and Wine and Books Combined (wait, that would be messy)

It’s true. I am wildly in love with my pets.

Tonight I’ve been working on my sets for an upcoming gig. This is a kitchen job, since the gear all fits nicely on the kitchen table and the cables reach the speakers (and yes, I have a subwoofer in my kitchen—don’t judge me!). I try to practice earlier in the evenings, before my tenant gets home from their shift, so my pounding bass doesn’t disturb others.

The Brindle Dog was stretched out on her side beside me, fully relaxed, sound asleep. I had to be careful not to dance onto her (I work the music with my whole body, feet and hips for the beat, arms and head for other bits I’m tracking, like melody or special effects), but I kept stopping to look at her with a full heart. It is so lovely that despite my stamping feet and loud music, she wants to be near me. She is creaky and old and going deaf, but she mostly still seeks me out and settles nearby.

As I worked, she started dreaming. First her back paws started twitching, then her front paws as well. I paused the music so I could hear her whimpers and barks and little huffy exhalations as she raced through her dreamscape. When I crouched down and placed my palm along her side, she opened her eyes and grinned a doggy grin at me and rolled onto her back for a belly rub. For that moment, she was my whole world.

The Fluffy Dog was at daycare today for his weekly visit. Whenever I pick him up there, I crouch down to be at face level when they bring him out to me. He comes charging out the door, and shoves his head into my neck or chest to greet me. When we get home, I feed the dogs and Mr. Fluff falls into a daycare coma for a couple of hours. When he dreams, he rarely twitches his feet or whimpers; he simply thumps his tail.

When The Fluffy Dog wants attention, he clowns around. When he is especially loud or naughty, it is a sign that he is feeling neglected and wants some Mama-time. Then I know I have to take a few minutes to sit on the floor with him and stroke his silky face and kiss him on his lovely snout. It makes him close his eyes and sigh and relax, and for that moment, he is my whole world.

I don’t talk about the cats much. I was never really much of a cat person but I do have these two lovely little Kittenz whom I hate when they have their middle-of-the-night zoomies, but who are also such sweet little characters when they’re not keeping me awake, or trying to eat dental floss or plastic bags, or puking on my bed, or pissing outside the litter box.

The Grey Cat likes to visit me when I’m sitting on the toilet. He seems to think that is our special time. He crawls onto my lap and curls into a purring ball, or stands on his hind legs and reaches one soft paw—claws carefully retracted—to touch my face. It is absolutely adorable, and when we cuddle there in that most undignified of places, with my pants around my ankles, I look into his golden eyes that get narrow and squinty with pleasure, and he is everything. At night, he carefully arranges himself along my right calf, and rests his head on my leg.

The Red Cat’s nickname is Cracky because he is a wild thing. His favourite time to cuddle is when I am playing a computer game or watching Netflix. Those are the only times (aside from reading) when I sit still for long enough to make it worth his while. He doesn’t care what position he’s in as long as he’s against me somehow. And if I am brushing him at the same time? Bliss! Sometimes he falls half-asleep on my lap and when he wakes, he has a sweet sleepy surprised face that always makes me smile and talk baby talk to him: “Does it gots a slaapkoppie? Eh? Does it gots a sweet little slaapkopje?” Because he is usually so wild and hard to catch, it always makes me feel so special when he seeks me out. He has the most beautiful greeny-gold eyes, and he looks at me so trustingly when he is curled up against me.

I am very lucky to share my home with these beautiful and hilarious people.

(01-Dec-2015: Edited a typo)

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