How Hairy is the Love of your Life?

Ah, the fur babies.....squeegee!

I'm no crazy cat lady. I do love my cat.

I'm not posting signs that say " If my dog doesn't like you I won't either." But I'd still die to share my life with a Bernese, a Newfoundland or an old English sheepdog.

Yes, even my guinea pigs bring me joy and hilarity.

Still the amount of time and money we spend on pets is pretty astounding. In Canada, while only 57% of us own pets it is predicted that we will spend between 6.6 and 8.3 billion on them in 2018. Billions, geez. I should be investing in Hartz and Purina. That doesn't even include our sweat equity. The amount of time we spend cleaning up after them, exercising them, worrying about their happiness and well being. Just hanging out and playing. Mourning them, too.

We adore our pets. I am sure everyone can think of someone who lives for their cat, a friend who's nuts over a ferret, who had to comfort a friend when their lizard died, who knows a least one person who spends a tonne of time caring for fish and turtles or who's crazy in love with their python, and dog people! Oh  those insane people: carting home 90 lb bags of kibble, balancing three bags of treats and a Frisbee and a tube of tennis balls. All while texting to reschedule their lives around the walks, the feedings, the groomings and the Dog Park.



As much love as they give our pets are somewhat inconvenient family members. If we are honest  though I would bet most of us resent the inconvenient humans in our lives with greater intensity.

Your pets don't call at 7am on your day off to ask if you slept well. They don't ask to borrow cash right after your car payment. They don't bring over their pet buds when you just want to sleep.  They never tell your secrets or talk behind your back at the Vet.   I have never heard of a mass shooting attributed to Fluffy or Rover.  They are not known to foist their political or religious beliefs upon you.  Although the occasional cat might stray to the neighbors for an extra breakfast they don't try to sleep with your best friend and break your soul. In fact, even the meanest Siamese won't tell you to lose 20 pounds.  The dumbest Dalmatian won't ask ignorant personal questions.

So it begins to make sense.

We love our pets because they are warm and cuddly, cute and funny.  They also lack the one thing that human relationships have in spades...hurt.  Betrayal. Selfishness.  Even the your nephew's tarantula or the least socialized pet rat cannot steal grandma's pearls, won't rat out your partying butt to your mom or tell your boss what you really said in the lunchroom. As much as they would like to: you won't find them retelling your embarrassing stories from fourth grade or creating new stories about you to further their careers.

Pets rock. It's not a wonder that studies say they de-stress us. Some say Hey they don't love you back, they just want food, they're so much work. Sounds more like most peoples marriages than my experience with my pets. So, like nearly everyone else I know, given the choice, when there's trust to be given, the dark horse I'll be betting on will be Mr. Whiskers.

Eden

Quarter past five.  Deep in the most private part of your soul you smile.  Your heart knows that anything useful you have been inclined to do at work today is done.  There is only one persistent drive left in you today.  The drive to punch out, say a pleasant goodbye and rush home.

The travel time is not enjoyable but  worth it.  In twenty minutes your key turns in the lock.  It is an amazing sound that key makes.  You open the door and are greeted with open affection.  You set down your bag and spend the next 40 minutes hearing amazing stories.  "Do you know what ?  Manda was in art and she was laughing 'cause Issac burped and it was soooooo funny, and the teacher said "That is enough" and we tr-i-e-d not to laugh but we couldn't and Manda had milk come out her nose!"   I bet that was pretty funny. "And guess what else, we only have four more days of school, and then next year, we might get this teacher and he's a really nice teacher, and if we get him he  has ipods in his class and if we get him, know what else?  We get to use them when we are done our stuff and I really, really really hope I get him."  That just might happen, kiddo.  I am pretty glad that you are already excited about next year.

You smile inside and it hits you.  There has not been one single development at work today that can hold a candle to the conversation you just had.  This moment right here was the most important meeting on your schedule.   So, you make dinner and check for homework while your gorgeous husband shows the munchkin how much the cucumber plant has grown.  You thank your lucky stars that he is home tonight with you. It means  there may just be a long walk in the country or a drive out to the lake for all of you, together.  You hear them giggle.  It is not the kind of giggle you hear at work where you wonder; What has happened now?   Just innocent bell-like laughter and with it the tension in your neck begins to melt away.

It is good to be home.  It is magical.

Glowing Earth

It is full of this indefinable thing we choose to call love.  A sometimes chaotic fusion of baking, WII games, guinea pigs and back rubs. Of wall hangings handmade just because He thinks you might like them. A quick nibble on the back of your neck while you fold socks. Snapshots and portraits and preschool art frames glimmering in the background.  A list of chores of  Sisyphean proportion to keep it all running in some predictable order.  As much a thinking game as it is slugging to get it done.  A constant series of questions we ask ourselves:  How do I make it better?  Make them happier?  Guide them in the right direction?  Keep it positive and inspiring?

 Outside these walls the world can knock you out repeatedly whether you are four or forty.  Bullies. Irate customers. Idiot drivers. The just plain rude.  Disappointment can reign sometimes out there- but at home it has no hold.   We plot against it here.  Fortify against frustrations.  Actively build each other up in a cocoon of safety, strength and respect.  The next time we head out the door we each take a little bit of home as the courage that beats within us.

Yet, it is only four walls and a roof.  It is pleasant, organized and comfortable.  It could

Summer Fun

use a new coat of paint.  No one is knocking from Architectural Digest to say, "Hey, can we do a photo shoot?"  Yet, it somehow, in it's simplicity, is an oasis. There is so much good here in this one small place on a very big planet that I bet it glows on google earth at night.   Like a star doused in fairy dust.