We have three dogs and two cats. I wanted one cat when we moved into the house but John wanted a dog too so we had Sassy and Lady Belle. Sassy was the grey and white tabby and Lady Belle was part wolf and part husky I think.
We got another cat, Mick, he was a yellow tabby with a lot of personality but then all cats have personality. I couldn't pet Mick very much or Sassy would pee under the covers where my feet went in the bed. True story. Luckily she didn't mind the kids spoiling him. We called him Micky-D sometimes but Sassy was always Sassy. She brought me a dead snake once and put it in the bed under the covers. Luckily I had the light on when I turned back the bed. The snake was just the right size to be a toy one but it wasn't. I had John throw it out and she went and retrieved it and he had to get it from her and throw it out the other door. I think she was miffed that this wonderful toy she'd given me wasn't accepted as well as she thought it would be. I gave her lots of loves and told her thank you. When mom found out she peed in the spot where my feet went from time to time she suggested I get rid of her. But who else would have a cat like that? We kept both of them until they died. Sassy had some kind of stroke I think it was and Mick died from diabetes. When they say don't give your cats milk, they mean it.
John viewed Lady Belle as his guardian (he loves the native american mindset). She had a habit of getting out and running free but then it became an issue so we put her on a lead in the back yard and she started getting aggressive. It got to where when you tried to pet her she let you know with a growl that she was above such things. When she nipped Jesse in the face and drew blood I told John I wanted rid of her but he insisted she shouldn't have been surprised, she did the same with Alley one day and I called the pound. To my surprise John STILL thought we should modify our way of handling her instead of her modifying her way of interacting with us. It got to the point that I had to tell him I would take the kids and move out before that dog came back here. It was us or the dog and months after she was gone he still expressed his anger at me having her picked up. If you got a look at our dog catcher you knew what he meant when he picked her up, heard my reasons and said "That's all it takes......." as he loaded her up. Seburn don't play when it comes to vicious dogs. I read online that once a dog started acting like she did it wasn't a matter of if they would attack someone, but when. I also read that if you have a wolf hybrid, you have to make sure they always know they are the beta in the house. They can't sleep in the bed with you, they can't eat people food, you have to maintain a hierarchy with them or eventually they will try to assert their authority over you. I wish I'd known this when we adopted her, by the time I knew it, it was too late for her. But I think John would have treated her like an equal regardless.
I had Beau for a short while. He was the only thing I'd ever spent much money on for my birthday. Beau was a bloodhound and he was comical. I loved him dearly and had just gotten him housetrained when we got him fixed. He wasn't able to process the anesthesia and he died from it. Just to tell you how he was, one day I cleaned the house and was so proud of myself when I went back into the living room he had gotten one of the kid's toys and had it in the floor and was laying there looking at me like "the kid's toys belong in here." He looked just as proud as I felt. I cried like a baby over him and swore I'd never potty train a blood hound again in the house. Not that I could afford one anyway. I guess the reason I got him for such a reasonable price was because he was going to die eventually an early death anyway. I'm just glad he spent his time with us because the lady on the other block kept hers in a small enclosure.
So now we have Gypsy (Gyp-C, zip-C, Gypsy Rosalee)........she's our dachshund and runs the dogs, she has a half brother, Max (Maxamillion, Maxwell smart).........she's part basset and he's part Chihuahua. Both of them have black skin disease and there isn't much you can do about it, bathing them makes it worse. It's a condition that even vets aren't sure how to treat, so it says online. But they are sweet dogs and we love them. Gypsy is a momma dog by nature but never had puppies. When it was her first fall, she came to me several times wanting me to follow her, something outside had her worried. So I went with her and stood out on the patio and then it occurred to me what was bothering her. The acorns were falling out of the trees. So I told her what it was and explained to her that it was normal and she was good with that. Max was very territorial and defensive until he got fixed, now he likes to be under covers and he whines a lot but he's super sweet.
We acquired Candy, our beagle/basset, too late in life to properly have her housetrained and she's afraid of water. When it rains outside she refuses to use the potty outdoors so ............yeah. I never would have named her that because I know a girl named Candy who's a mormon (because her dad was gay and died and they are the only ones who don't think gay people go to hell). It's not normal for me to name an animal after a person except for Max and that's a whole blog on it's own. Let's just say when you think you're house is bugged by bad guys (You might say bad guys, I might say paranoid people who want to know what I talk about even in my sleep)........then you figure out a way to talk directly to them where other people don't think you're crazy. This also helps when you talk about your pets in public. Anyway, I think Candy had been abused before we got her. I'd give her away but considering her idiosyncrasies, I hate to think what her life would be like somewhere else.
We have a calico cat named Sophia (Golden girls) and we have a black and white cat named Britches. Britches is younger than Sophia and wants to get her to play but Sophie don't play. She loves to get in my lap when I'm at the computer and I have the scars on my arm to prove it. Mind you, she doesn't get aggressive unless I repeatedly ignore her but Britches has finally gotten old enough that he runs the house so far as cat politics go. He's like Mick in that he wants fresh water so he prefers to drink from the tap but unlike Mick we don't let him demand we hold our hand under the tap for him to drink out of. Sophie reminds me of Nostradamus because she sits in front of the silver water bowl and gazes into it ha ha.......for all I know she has the secrets to the universe.
Lately we have acquired a border. He's terrier and the kind the pit bull is bred from which makes him smart. His name is Gizmo. He's the neighbor's dog and Jesse has defended him at school when he got out and ran down there pretty often to socialize with the kids. Jess has been suspended for defending Gizmo's right to life when the boys there talked about hurting him. Our neighbors have no idea how often I've collected him from the school and for a long time didn't know Jess had been suspended defending his honor. Gizmo loves people and he has sat in my lap on school property after hours as I prayed over our town and the kids and my kid's right to be treated right. He's a very sympathetic listener and he loves me and l love him.
He got attacked one night while he was on his lead and couldn't get away. His injuries were bad enough he couldn't wear his collar. They let us keep him while he heals and until they get their fence fixed well enough to protect him. He's a welcome part of the family and he's good company for Candy because the doxies are pretty clannish and they don't treat her like she's part of the pack so Gizmo balances that out.
Long story short, we have three dogs and two cats and one canine border. They each have their own personality and I love my animals, sometimes better than I love people.
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