This weekend it really hit home. Made me realize an inescapable truth:
I am a sucker for animals. All of them, even the nasty ones. Don't like to kill spiders, for instance. But my friends and family are starting to point out some glaring anomalies in my behavior.
While I'm hollering about needing a cleaner house, we keep piling on the pets. Almost picked up a cute little tramp in the shape of a fluffball yesterday. Well, okay, I did actually pick up the kitten, wondering if he were a stray (he wasn't). And I did actually start plotting how I would get him past Husband RJ and into the house for a snack. Fortunately, a neighbor disabused me of the "stray" notion; the owner was just casual about letting her tiny hairball roam freely. Not a good thing on the edge of a city with a cat-leash law. A mean neighbor will call the city to trap the little darling.
And I admit that I keep MommaDog's room open, furnished and available, clean sheets and all, for GrandDog Ellie. Not fresh sheets, mind you. Just that the soiled ones get laundered. Ellie soils them with her chewies. Don't know when I'll ever be able to redecorate the room with something sensible, bright and stylish. Dark comforters work best for her. Brindle, you know.
And we do have our bay window dedicated to the comfort and clawing needs of our four cats, only two of whom are really ours. And only Spooky was specifically chosen for adoption by us. DeeDee was a pathetic storm victim that brought in a deadly virus that killed an older pet. But she's ours now, fingernail-on-blackboard yowling, stepping on the computer keyboard, tipping the waterbowl with her paws and leaping from our laps with claws fully extended. She's Ellie's buddy who takes over the GrandDog's chore of waking Husband RJ from his nap while she visits doggie heaven in the guise of a mild-mannered Golden Glow home. Like a loyal puppy.
Let's get to the point before I adopt some other big-eyed denizen of Kingdom Animalia.
If you go here (permanent link) and here for photo, you will see the latest imposition on my hospitality and generosity of spirit. I only hope this is temporary. The porch is too hot without my awnings to cut the sun. And isn't it bad enough we are raising a full neighborhood's worth of squirrels around our bird feeders? Must we be raising the birds for the feeders, too?
I just dedicated the morning to vacuuming, dusting and pet hair removal in the sitting room. It's going to be a long summer. Spent indoors. Watching the chirpy little squatters. And sulking.