Sharing a house with four little dogs who bark at everything that moves and eliminate wherever they please takes some getting used to. Actually, it’s five dogs when you count my Zinnie, and six if you count the bird that barks just as well (and just as often) as the dogs do.
Then there’s the snake, an ugly green thing that does nothing but ooze around the twigs in its cage and eye its soon-to-be dinner, a little grey mouse I’ve come to feel very sorry for. He keeps scurrying around his glass prison, trying to find an escape hatch, but I don’t think he quite realizes the danger he’s in; every now and again he runs up the branch where the snake is and sniffs at it. This brings the critter out of its lazy sleep and causes it to strike out. It obviously isn’t hungry yet or the mouse would’ve been devoured….and as I watch the little guy race around the enclosure, I find myself rooting for him.
For their part, the mini-pins are very affectionate, even the one I have to inject twice a day with insulin. Good thing I’m fast with a needle or I’d have been bitten multiple times, but she always forgives me quickly and two minutes later she’s nuzzling me with her long nose.
The Pomeranians, on the other hand, are rather snooty, although they too love cuddles and will lick you to death if you let them. They bullied my dog Zinnie from the start—probably because she came too close to their new puppies—but seem to have lightened up a bit, because she’s no longer hiding under the desk near my feet or under the blankets on the big sectional sofa.
In the meantime, my son Ethan has been calling on a regular basis to see how things are going here. He won’t be able to once the ship sails, which will be the end of all phone contact for eight days. I can’t even imagine being out of range for that long…..but then, I can’t imagine being on an eight-day cruise either, even though it’s on my bucket list along with seeing the birthplace of Jesus and staying at one of those little stick houses in the shallow ocean water in Bora Bora. (Actually, I just want to live there.) Next life: straighter hair, better metabolism, more money…..and of course, no bipolar. Woo-hoo!