Kittiness also, sometimes I miss having a dog
I want to write a poem about how Ryo-Ohki and Oreo are both my 'nannies' when it comes to bedtime, though I'm having a hard time distilling it down into lines and stanzas.
But yes, I have TWO adorable kitties who are terribly offended if I'm up at my computer much past 11pm. They take turns telling me to go to bed.
When it is Ryo, she will start by pawing at my rear end where the chair does not cover it. Once she knows she has my attention, she will start trotting towards my bedroom, stopping a few times to look back at me and see if I'm following. If I do not follow, and seem to be ignoring her, she comes back over, and once again paws at my butt, or sometimes she will jump up in front of my monitor and give me a Look. She will then, again, start heading for the bedroom, with many a backward glance. She does give up after about three or four attempts, though sometimes will return to try once more if more hours pass.
Oreo does much the same thing, except instead of pawing at my rear, he rubs against my legs or starts chewing on a cardboard box beneath my desk. And yep, once he Has My Attention, he starts heading for the bedroom, checking as he goes to see if I am coming. He will also do this two or three times before giving up for a while.
Ryo won't actually sleep with me, which is what makes her attempts to get me to bed even more amusing. She just really thinks it is Wrong for me to stay up all hours of the night.
Oreo of course hops onto the bed and snuggles against my side or between my legs, so he may have more selfish reasons for wanting his bedwarmer to give up on playing with the magical glowy box at a reasonable hour.
***
Another set of memories that came up last night revolved around our first two dogs.
Enos, our first big pet evar, was a black lab mix, and was an absolute sweetheart. I don't have too many solid memories of him without watching photos or home videos, honestly, though we did have him for a bit I think even after my father died. But there is one home video my dad shot that really sums Enos up for me: In this video, taken when we first lived out at Canyon Lake, my mom and I are swordfighting with little twigs. Poor Enos is TERRIBLY upset by this, and thinks we are fighting for realz. Throughout the video he is trying to get between us, whimpering, and trying to steal our 'weapons', first nearly knocking me over trying to defend and shield me, and then do the same to my mom, though she's a bit harder to knock over, being, you know, older than four or five.
And then there was Vanilla, the puppy we got from the humane society when living up on Eagle Circle. I think poor Enos was kind of outclassed by her, she really remains my ideal of The Perfect Dog. We never knew exactly what she was. The pound thought she was a pomeranian/dauchsaund mix, but she got a bit too big for that, and did seem to have some shadings of retriever. She remaind a medium size that could in fact semi-comfortably be in your lap.
This was good, because she WOULD hop up into laps throughout her life. When she was frightened, she would put my dad's bearhugs to shame- wrapping front paws around your waist and just absolutely CLINGING while shaking all over. You needed a crowbar to get free.
Moments when she was so afraid included: the first time she saw a baby human, when we'd try to coax her into the lake for a swim, and every/any time there were fireworks, as well as some bad thunderstorms.
She was a Mama Dog. We got her fixed while a puppy, but when it came to small furry things, she just ADORED them. She loved my bunny (a hard feat, considering Bun-Bun was rather MEAN). When my dad caved and let me have a kitten outside (he was allergic, so no kitty further in house than garage) she adopted the little black furball immediately.
She would go on to adopt three or four more kittens brought home in various years, sleeping with them, bathing them, and playing with them. Our albums contain several photos of 'Nilla wrassling with kittens, letting them bunnykick and everything. She would defend her babies tooth and nail against other dogs- we'd been 'warned friendly-like' by neighbors at one house that their aussie-shepard mixes would 'tear our cats and that little dawg apart' (with of course 'don't blame us if that happens, we were here first!'). 'Nilla had those ferocious mutts cringing and running the hell away. (For that matter our Ebony Blue cat himself was a terror when anything tried cornering him, I am proud to say.)
She adopted a duckling. The poor duckling thought for SURE it was a dog, right down to being afraid of water for quite some time. It, (and also the goose, though the goose wasn't as confused) would sleep on the porch nestled in against Vanilla, or against the neighbor's retriever mix, who also was an adopting sort of dog. Since my cats were also brought up by Vanilla, they thought of the duckling as a sibling, and would play or sleep with it as well. The duck and goose poo all over the deck was annoying, but we sort of decided it was a small price to pay for the OMGCUTE.
She adopted the puppies some ass abandoned on our property, which is in part why we ended up keeping Sissy and Caper, who, bless'em, were shepard-rotweiler crosses and thought they should be allowed into laps as often as their smaller 'mom'. Unfortunately, they did not wind up as gently loving of all animals as 'Nilla, and in a hyperactive fit one day, they killed the poor duckling, as well as all our chickens, and then later were shot for chasing a rancher's sheep =/
I think one of the most heartbreaking parts of my life was when we moved to Michigan, and could not take 'Nilla. The apartment would let us keep our cats and sugargliders, OR the dog, but would NOT let us keep both cats and dog, for the stupid-ass 'reason' that they'd do damage when fighting or something like that.
We thought hard about it, and in the end, both because it was easier finding a new home for one dog than for two or three cats, and because 'Nilla was getting old and might not handle cold, and might not easily handle going from indoor-outdoor to indoor-with-only-walkies-out... we left Vanilla.
An online friend from IRC agreed to help us out by taking her in temporarily and then finding a new home. So, my mom already being gone, I drove with 'Nilla to the park we were to meet at. As far as she was concerned, of course, it was an adventure- until she realized... she'd been put into a car that I was not getting into.. and it was driving away from me.
I could hear her crying and howling not just down the road a ways, but for days afterwards.
Hell, I still bust out crying remembering.
I lost touch with that IRC friend a while later, though the last I heard was at least heartwarming. 'Nilla had found a home with an elderly/retired couple, and had adopted their toddling grandbaby. I was told that the baby napped using the dog as a pillow when at her grandparents', and that 'Nilla was teaching her how to dig in the tomato garden.
So yeah. If I ever have a dog again, I want one like 'Nilla. Kthnx.
But yes, I have TWO adorable kitties who are terribly offended if I'm up at my computer much past 11pm. They take turns telling me to go to bed.
When it is Ryo, she will start by pawing at my rear end where the chair does not cover it. Once she knows she has my attention, she will start trotting towards my bedroom, stopping a few times to look back at me and see if I'm following. If I do not follow, and seem to be ignoring her, she comes back over, and once again paws at my butt, or sometimes she will jump up in front of my monitor and give me a Look. She will then, again, start heading for the bedroom, with many a backward glance. She does give up after about three or four attempts, though sometimes will return to try once more if more hours pass.
Oreo does much the same thing, except instead of pawing at my rear, he rubs against my legs or starts chewing on a cardboard box beneath my desk. And yep, once he Has My Attention, he starts heading for the bedroom, checking as he goes to see if I am coming. He will also do this two or three times before giving up for a while.
Ryo won't actually sleep with me, which is what makes her attempts to get me to bed even more amusing. She just really thinks it is Wrong for me to stay up all hours of the night.
Oreo of course hops onto the bed and snuggles against my side or between my legs, so he may have more selfish reasons for wanting his bedwarmer to give up on playing with the magical glowy box at a reasonable hour.
***
Another set of memories that came up last night revolved around our first two dogs.
Enos, our first big pet evar, was a black lab mix, and was an absolute sweetheart. I don't have too many solid memories of him without watching photos or home videos, honestly, though we did have him for a bit I think even after my father died. But there is one home video my dad shot that really sums Enos up for me: In this video, taken when we first lived out at Canyon Lake, my mom and I are swordfighting with little twigs. Poor Enos is TERRIBLY upset by this, and thinks we are fighting for realz. Throughout the video he is trying to get between us, whimpering, and trying to steal our 'weapons', first nearly knocking me over trying to defend and shield me, and then do the same to my mom, though she's a bit harder to knock over, being, you know, older than four or five.
And then there was Vanilla, the puppy we got from the humane society when living up on Eagle Circle. I think poor Enos was kind of outclassed by her, she really remains my ideal of The Perfect Dog. We never knew exactly what she was. The pound thought she was a pomeranian/dauchsaund mix, but she got a bit too big for that, and did seem to have some shadings of retriever. She remaind a medium size that could in fact semi-comfortably be in your lap.
This was good, because she WOULD hop up into laps throughout her life. When she was frightened, she would put my dad's bearhugs to shame- wrapping front paws around your waist and just absolutely CLINGING while shaking all over. You needed a crowbar to get free.
Moments when she was so afraid included: the first time she saw a baby human, when we'd try to coax her into the lake for a swim, and every/any time there were fireworks, as well as some bad thunderstorms.
She was a Mama Dog. We got her fixed while a puppy, but when it came to small furry things, she just ADORED them. She loved my bunny (a hard feat, considering Bun-Bun was rather MEAN). When my dad caved and let me have a kitten outside (he was allergic, so no kitty further in house than garage) she adopted the little black furball immediately.
She would go on to adopt three or four more kittens brought home in various years, sleeping with them, bathing them, and playing with them. Our albums contain several photos of 'Nilla wrassling with kittens, letting them bunnykick and everything. She would defend her babies tooth and nail against other dogs- we'd been 'warned friendly-like' by neighbors at one house that their aussie-shepard mixes would 'tear our cats and that little dawg apart' (with of course 'don't blame us if that happens, we were here first!'). 'Nilla had those ferocious mutts cringing and running the hell away. (For that matter our Ebony Blue cat himself was a terror when anything tried cornering him, I am proud to say.)
She adopted a duckling. The poor duckling thought for SURE it was a dog, right down to being afraid of water for quite some time. It, (and also the goose, though the goose wasn't as confused) would sleep on the porch nestled in against Vanilla, or against the neighbor's retriever mix, who also was an adopting sort of dog. Since my cats were also brought up by Vanilla, they thought of the duckling as a sibling, and would play or sleep with it as well. The duck and goose poo all over the deck was annoying, but we sort of decided it was a small price to pay for the OMGCUTE.
She adopted the puppies some ass abandoned on our property, which is in part why we ended up keeping Sissy and Caper, who, bless'em, were shepard-rotweiler crosses and thought they should be allowed into laps as often as their smaller 'mom'. Unfortunately, they did not wind up as gently loving of all animals as 'Nilla, and in a hyperactive fit one day, they killed the poor duckling, as well as all our chickens, and then later were shot for chasing a rancher's sheep =/
I think one of the most heartbreaking parts of my life was when we moved to Michigan, and could not take 'Nilla. The apartment would let us keep our cats and sugargliders, OR the dog, but would NOT let us keep both cats and dog, for the stupid-ass 'reason' that they'd do damage when fighting or something like that.
We thought hard about it, and in the end, both because it was easier finding a new home for one dog than for two or three cats, and because 'Nilla was getting old and might not handle cold, and might not easily handle going from indoor-outdoor to indoor-with-only-walkies-out... we left Vanilla.
An online friend from IRC agreed to help us out by taking her in temporarily and then finding a new home. So, my mom already being gone, I drove with 'Nilla to the park we were to meet at. As far as she was concerned, of course, it was an adventure- until she realized... she'd been put into a car that I was not getting into.. and it was driving away from me.
I could hear her crying and howling not just down the road a ways, but for days afterwards.
Hell, I still bust out crying remembering.
I lost touch with that IRC friend a while later, though the last I heard was at least heartwarming. 'Nilla had found a home with an elderly/retired couple, and had adopted their toddling grandbaby. I was told that the baby napped using the dog as a pillow when at her grandparents', and that 'Nilla was teaching her how to dig in the tomato garden.
So yeah. If I ever have a dog again, I want one like 'Nilla. Kthnx.