New home. New German Shepherd puppy. Max needs a puppy friend since he’s going to be home alone, right? How fortunate. The Humane Society is set up at the pet store. Just cats, but “Blanche” (soon to be rechristened Buffy) has a sign on her pen: “Loves dogs.” They seem to get along in the store. If “loves dogs” was ever true, Max’s affection transformed it into “tolerates dogs.” So, now two pets need companions. To the shelter. I come back with an affectionate terrier mutt, Shadow, and a sweet and fearless tabby, TC. And Max. In my Miata. Neither newcomer is intimidated by Max. But the moment TC comes out of the carrier, Buffy pounces and pins him in a three-quarter nelson. It took two days to coax TC out of the basement, and then another from under my bed. Shadow, on the other hand, wouldn’t be cowed. Not by Max or Buffy or the pit bulls chained next door, who were dumbstruck when he casually walked between them to eat their food, then looked at them like “What are you going to do about it?” Not intimidated. Also not interested at all in other animals. They’re all beneath him. So now my bachelor pad is filled with four pets pretending the others don’t exist.
If this resonates, I’d love to hear from you. A comment, a share, or even just a like goes a long way. Writing into the silence is its own practice, but knowing the work lands makes it easier to keep showing up.