I got Myrah a dog. Being left alone all day had made the cat a little needy, a little crazy. She needed a friend. That’s one reason. I needed a friend. One that would go hiking with me, have a drink with me on those days when humans aren’t available, and skip under the city stars because other’s think that’s just crazy. Sure that’s a reason too. There are more, in fact so many reasons they almost equal the reasons for not getting a dog.
The scale hung heavy with reasons why I and my cat should remain puppy free. So what happened? What was the overwhelming reason, the one reason that outweighed every other reason for or against..?
I dunna know, he was there.
Making logical, thoughtful, life-tossing decisions isn’t what I’m good at. The little ones — broccolli or asparagus, semi-sweet chocolate chips or almonds and sea salt in dark chocolate, watch Walking Dead or read Clash of Kings before bed — those I can succesfully debate before reaching a decision. Something like should I adopt a cat when I am unhoused and unemployed or a puppy when I work a full time office job is beyond my reasoning skills. Inside me, only a paper-thin level below responsible me, is irresponsible me moping that “I want, I want, I want.” This person often appears during the chocolate decision as well.
So even though I sat in my car outside the pet adoption event I didn’t think any thoughts. I stared out the window. At the parking lot asphalt in the distance. Perhaps this thoughtless sitting was in fact gaining gumption. Similar to declaring “I’m still getting the cat tomorrow” after learning I had one week to find a new place to live.
Benny is gosh darn cute. Kids lean out of car windows to yell that they love him. Strangers at the dog park who find him sitting in their laps comment on how not shy he is. Neighbors with puppies wonder at his calmness.
Don’t let him fool you. He’s a terror. A jumping, food obsessed terror. To his puppy brain everything should be tasted because it might be edible. Everything is edible. Nothing is out of his reach. And nothing can prevent him getting to his food goal.
My brain, being punished for its thoughtless actions, is working desperately on ways to keep them out of the kitchen. Since Benny came to live with us, the cat has also discovered the counter and the possibility for baked goods cooling on a wire rack. Being December, they can find almondy, sugary treats there weekly. It’s not entirely my fault almond extract must be running through my veins and my brain needs to be reenergized with sugar. To convince them that they should let me finish Christmas baking I say to them, Benny, Myrah* consider these savory treats a bribe.
*Yes, the cat also eagerly ate these dog treats. She declined to be photographed.