Friday, March 27, 2009

Fur Friends--we love 'em!

It's a _________ thing, you wouldn't understand (just add your own obsession in that blank space.)

For you who don't have fur-friends, you just wouldn't understand.

Why would you buy perfectly styled black pants and then go out in public with the legs covered with fur?

Why would you allow your brand new chair to be ravaged by the claws of a pet needing to sharpen his/her claws. He/she might need those claws to dig into your chest as he/she shows love by kneeding in your chest with claws opening and closing. (Felines only for this one!) And not really be that upset about it?

Why would you make your bed only to have the fur friend move from under the covers to over the covers for that long 12 hour daily nap?

Why would you disrupt your entire life training a puppy to not pee on the carpet? (And they are puppies for such a long time, long after they attain adult size, strength and bladder capacity!)

Why would you adopt more fur friends because you know that sad face says, "I need a good home", even when the house is full of fur, kids and people?

Well, we are a family who have 1-??? fur friends. Some are indoor friends, some outdoors, but all are well loved. The girth on some of the older ones attests to the fact that they have a great life, good food, lots of leisure time, willing to share their boundless energies with anyone who walks through their doors.

Example #1: We had Boy M's birthday party last weekend. 4 fur friends live here, 2 dogs and 2 cats. We never saw the one cat, but the others were definitely in the middle of the celebration. After an exhuberant display of welcoming, Mollie the big lab/chow/setter/57 other varieties big girl settled down in anyone's lap who was sitting in the chair she usually sits in. I looked at my brother, trying to drink his soda, while hosting 75 pound Mollie in his lap, her tail thumping happily as she took up residence on top of him. Mollie has some girth on her, so she is hardly a tiny presence in the room! But she was happy as a clam there, even if he did look a little bit helpless as to how to manage an open soda can and a big happy dog occupying the same space!

Example #2: everyone is experimenting with new products to get the fur off the furniture. I've found one product, which works, but is disposable, so you have to use a lot of product to get the fur off the chair that my fur friend (blonde soft kitty) leaves behind on everything he sits on.

Example #3: I found a darling pet bed at Walgreens for my fur-friend. It is the same color as he is, and is very soft plush. This is exactly the same kind of plush he goes crazy over which is on my bed, he kneads and kneads on that blanket. Would he go near the plush pet bed? NOT ON YOUR LIFE! The only way I got him to go on it was to put it on my chest as I take my nap in the chair, and then he had to go in the bed to do his favorite thing, nap with me. Some day I hope to catch him lying in it, so I can take his picture. That may be a long way off.

Example #4: Many of us have adopted our fur-friends after a sad pair of eyes and pitiful meows or whines have enticed us to adopt. I know I got mine that way, he was a "throw away" cat--you know, throw it out of the window and drive away. Our friend NV of This D*mn House got her Tigger that way. I adopted my Charlie because he was a barn cat at my son's house who liked people and needed to get away from the other 25 kittens born that spring. Bogey, the sad dog, was mistreated, and needed a good home, so he is Mollie's housemate. Coal, who is MonkeyGirl and Mr. MonkeyGirl's pet (, is a rescue dog, and is growing up in beauty, size, and getting some manners.

So why am I writing about fur-friends? Because NV lost her 17 year old fur-friend Tigger (beautiful grey tabby) this week, and we all remember the ones we lost. They give us love in their own way, and leave a hole in our hearts and in our daily routine when they leave us. We are sorry NV for your loss, and remember the ones who once coated our furniture with their fur.

I remember my Charlie, a beautiful B & W--black and white. He always looked well dressed, like he was wearing his tuxedo every day. He was a very smart cat, because he learned in 1 day how to open the doors at my house--every door had lever handles, so he just pulled it down, or pushed it down, and he was released from bondage.

I only had him about 3 years. He happened to die on my birthday, which was on the first day of a very bad year of school, while my husband was taking chemo and radiation for a brain tumor, on the day my friends 2 very-premature grandbabies who didn't make it were being buried, all the while waiting for a verdict in a son-in-law's very serious brush with the law. Once the tears started flowing that day, they didn't stop for a very long time. I remember wailing out loud as I was digging the hole to bury my fur friend in. I lived in the country, but I was sure that the closest neighbors who lived over 1 mile away could hear me. That was such a terrible day, I'll never forget it.

So we miss their companionship, their love, taking care of them, and will remember them for a long time.

Did you ever read the story "Where the Red Fern Grows"? If you love your pets, you should read it, because it is a love story between a boy and his dogs. When one of the dogs met an untimely death, the boy buried him and a red fern grew over the burial site. When I lost a crazy cat named 8 Ball, we planted the red fern over his grave site to remember him and what love and fun he gave us.

Remember them in a special way, those fur friends. Their unconditional love is something many humans can't give. We love them, even while wearing fur on our brand new black designer pants!


NV said...

Awww ... that was so very sweet. Thank you! It's been a tough week. I have the sad task of burying Tigger awaiting me. Hoping I don't have snow to dodge to do it.

But as my mom said the other night, Tigger had a good life. He really did. And I have to think that we are better for having had him.

sewwhat? said...

You remember my crazy Charlie, the cat you called the minion from hell for the way he charged in and out of the room. I'll never forget how hard I laughed when you called him that! He was incarcerated in the basement because of that trait, and that is when he learned how to open the lever door knobs, to escape and chase again!