Memorial Day

Ah, a day to relax. Sleep in late. Loll about. Go swimming in the newly opened pool (if I could ever convince the boys to go!). A time to deal with issues. Like the boys leaving me on my own throughout the summer so they can visit brothers. I look at it as desertion. But I also realize they didn't sign on for cancer, and after all, they are just kids. Let them go. I have a good support system. I will be fine.

I've thought about getting a pet for companionship a lot. They boys beg for a dog, and I did look, long before the cancer treatments were known about. I just never found a dog I liked. I had decided to get a cat. Maybe not even a kitten, but one a bit older, a rescue animal. I searched through websites and found a 501c3 home for abandoned cats with a picture of a 1 year old cat who looked interesting and sounded reasonable. Maybe.

First, I thought I would check the pet stores and see what they all had. I know the local animal shelter hosts adoption days and Lollipop Farm was having several, so I grabbed Kiel and we made the rounds. One store was also having dog adoptions, but of the motley crew there, no one struck my fancy. After all, I need someone calm and cuddly who will be my friend, not a neurotic nuisance. Yes, I read all the research about cancer patients doing better when they have a dog to pet etc. Improves blood pressure, yadda yadda yadda.

Still, am I crazy? A number of my friends warned my against it. Too much expense and trouble. A number of my friends swear by it - so much better to have someone about the house and not be alone. Keeps you used to being flexible and loving. Well, if I get a pet, it will have to inadvertently steal my heart when I am not looking. Fat chance of that happening.

Imagine my surprise when we wandered into the next petstore, and there in the front before we even entered, was an adorable little mop of white and black rolling about playing, minding her own business. I stood still and watched her for awhile. Cute. Good with people. Loves to be cuddled. No. I am looking for a cat. I enter the store. The kittens aren't even cute. There are big signs everywhere forbidding you to pet them. I wander back to the front of the store and ask about the fluff ball.

Yes, she is part Maltese, part Shitzu. Very loving lapdog, great with people. Doesn't shed. Even people with allergies are not allergic to them. Hum. Don't make any snap decisions. We wander down the mall. I am thinking about it. I go back for another look. Maybe. I think about it. We wander some more. I can't help it. I have succumbed to her gentle black eyes with the long long lashes. She is a close to being a cat as a dog can get.

I will not find another animal like her for a long time. I go back. I ask about her again. They let me hold her, play with her. Do I want her? Gulp. Do I? Can I handle it? Should I? I have been thinking about it for a long time. The boys will leave me soon. Perhaps I am ready. I nod. Yes. I will adopt her. The next half hour is a whirlwind of instructions and gathering of stuff (for which I was somehow not quite prepared!). She needs food, a dish, a leash, a brush, and toys! Chew stuff, a cage. Good lord. I need nine months to prepare for all this! Still, I have committed. On we go.

The wriggling bundle of joy gets packed in an iguana box and before I realize it, I am headed to the car with her shaking inside the box. We drive home. She is scared. Me too. There is no going back. In the house, I sit quietly in the blue recliner with her on my lap. She sleeps. I rest. Whew! Probably not the smartest thing I have ever done. I can hear my Mother now. Esther Ruth! What in the world are you thinking? Those research papers better be right. I will expect a full twenty point drop in my blood pressure starting as soon as she is house broken. Yikes!