Our family lives in a modest bungalow. We like it. It could be spruced up and made even nicer but we have a few “imPETiments” standing in our way. Our dog and two cats pretty much rule the roost and we humbly comply with their demands. It shouldn’t be this way. It is.
We have had these creatures a dozen years now and they have left their mark. Often, literally, their mark. The screen door on the rear entrance to the house needs replacing, but while the cats are above ground, it never will be. They discovered, a few years ago, that the rickety old door can be opened with one great push of a paw and will stay open long enough for a fat kitty to run through to the glorious outside. And because it doesn’t fit right in the frame anymore, they can reach their paws underneath it to let themselves back in. Last year was a banner one for them and the door. A portion of the bottom screen came away from its wooden frame so they just walk in and out of the door now, no pushing required. We fully expect to wake up some morning to the sight of a skunk that has discovered the screen door flaw and taken advantage of it to come inside. So far, no skunk. The point of all this is, if we get a new door, all this cat access will disappear. And we can’t do that.
And so many other features of our house are the same. Our insulated, heated garage still has the two 60-year-old windows it has always had. A couple of new, insulated windows would look just great there, but instead, we prop open the screenless windows for easy access by the cats. They jump onto the air conditioner, then run through a window, scratch on the kitchen door and in they come. If we called Fantastic Windows and Doors to come and do a replacement, the cats would be scuppered. Cat scuppering seems like a worthwhile goal some days but we have found if you make their lives harder with one action, they will make your lives harder by another. Often much harder.
There is a big suitcase lying flat on the floor in our rec room downstairs. No one dares move it. Because one day, one of the cats crawled up on it and went to sleep. Now both cats take turns napping on it, so we don’t have the heart to remove it.
In front of one of our sheds outside, the paving bricks have sunk to form a hollow, a result of years of our going in and out of the building. In a rainstorm, this hollow fills up to form a small pond. The bricks need to be taken up and the sand and gravel base below them built up again. But they won’t be. The hollow holds our dog’s body perfectly and he lies in it and sunbathes all summer.
A few years ago, we had our rec room re-carpeted. It looked spectacular. We put up two big fancy scratching posts for the cats. They looked at them and laughed and proceeded to use the entire room as one big post. We tried for a while to discourage them. Our efforts were as successful as commanding the wind to stop blowing. As of today, our actual scratching posts look pretty good. Our carpet, yuck. Especially the stairs. And when they need variety, they toil away on our furniture. When company comes, we cover it all up with sheets, giving it the look of a crime scene, which it is. Declaw the critters, you say. Right. Not going to happen.
Our doggie is getting old and has trouble now jumping onto our bed. So a while back, in the dark, I reached down and picked him up and placed him on the mattress. Now it’s become pretty much routine. In the dark, I lean down with my hands open near the floor though I can’t see where he is and wait for him to walk between them, which he does with precision.
There is a gate between the hallway and our laundry. It is there for one purpose. Without it, the doggie will run into the covered cat litter pan and emerge with some tasty goodies. Nothing better than predigested food. Unlike me, he is not picky with his menu choices.
We have a couch pushed up against our picture window in the living room. We think of rearranging the furniture in that room, now and then, but moving that couch is off the roster of choices open to us. All three pets sit up on the back of it to look at the world going by. Doggie lies there and peeks through the curtains for hours, awaiting the return of whatever family member isn’t home. The cats watch the birds and squirrels.
Some day, maybe, our house will be fixed up and glowing. Country Homes magazine (though we don’t live in the country) will phone up and ask to do a feature on our place.
I dread that day. A great part of our joy in living is measured by the imperfections in our house. And even when the day comes when there no longer is a reason to not fix things up, I know us all well enough to know, we’ll probably leave things as they are. Memories can often be good stand-ins for realities.
That doesn’t mean I enjoy fighting Luigi the cat for my computer chair every day, or chasing him off the printer where he lies to watch the birds in their feeder attached to the kitchen window. I also don’t enjoy getting down on my knees to mop up the water spilled from the communal waterbowl by Mario’s Water Redistribution Service. Luigi’s weird brother prefers to drink water off the floor so he hauls that dish around till he has several puddles to choose from. Tape it to the floor? Nope. Also with water, we keep one shower door open. That’s where Luigi laps up his supply.
But who am I kidding? Protest as I might and do, I enjoy every last bit of it.
They keep things interesting.
©2019 Jim Hagarty
