|Banks County Opinions...||
August 8, 2001
By Shar Porier
The Banks County News
August 8, 2001
Recently, while waiting for the teams to come in from a golf tournament I was shooting, a friend and I were watching TV. A commercial came on for that talking bass. We mused for a few minutes on how great it would be if animals could talk. They could tell us if they were sick. We could have conversations and get their take on things. They could let us know who had come to the house while we were gone. The cats would tell us about their adventurous day. Wouldn't it be fun?
But, whoa! Wait a minute! Both of us had the same thought at the same time. He said, "That's all I need - someone else fussing at me."
I have four dogs and three cats. Living out in the "sticks" on a dead-end road, I frequently encounter animals that other people have cast off. I take them in, get them healthy and then try to find homes for them. Sometimes, they end up with me.
Rosie is the oldest, has diabetes, has to be on a special diet and receives two insulin shots each day. Peaches is fat enough for two dogs her size, has skin allergies and has to have allergy pills every day. Sweet Pea has genetic mange (non-contagious) that, fortunately, is being held in check with daily medication and a special diet. Jax, luckily, is in fine shape; he lives in hyper-drive.
Two of my cats, Tom (16 years old and still acts like a kitten) and Lyla, the ultimate froufrou cat, are very healthy, but so picky. Siam, however, has this weight problem. Which probably is because her idea of a fun day revolves around lying in the sun and doing nothing. She specializes in that - doing nothing.
It's a big family to care for. And thinking about seven voices added to my quiet home life made me think how lucky I am that animals don't talk.
I imagined the cats - those lovable, obstinate fluff balls. Lyla: "I'm not using the box until you get HER stuff out of it!" Tom: "I want out. I HAVE to go out NOW. Don't expect ME to use that box where the girls do their thing." Siam, after coming in from outdoors: "Hey, why don't you clean this thing more often. I went three times this morning, and its still in here. Look, I gottta go, bad!"
Lyla, as she sticks her nose up and pouts: "What's wrong with you? You're giving me this cat food again. I don't like it, remember? You're getting senile! I am not going to eat THAT!"
Siam, coyly: "Why don't you get rid of those other cats and just live with MEEEEEEE?"
Then at bath time, as Lyla defiantly spreads her four legs to latch onto the sink rim, "I am not going to take that bath! Don't you dare put me in the sink! Eeeeeee, you're trying to drown me! I'll report you to the ASPCA."
Jax: "Get away from me with that leash. I don't want a bath. It took a long time for me to find that dead skunk! I like the way I smell! Don't you?"
Tom, head held high carrying the latest booty: "Whatdya mean I can't take this dead mouse in the house. No, I'm NOT going to drop it! It's mine. Well, they only smell bad to you. To me, they smell like victory!"
Lyla: "Don't expect me to lie on the bed with HER. Get rid of her." Siam: "Ha, just try to get me to move. I was here first."
Sweet Pea, (85-pounds): "How come the cats get special treatment! You don't let ME in your lap! It's not fair! See? I can fit here, too."
At dinnertime, with big brown eyes looking at me mournfully, pleadingly, Rosie: "Oh, please, puhleease, let me have just a bite of your food. It looks so good. So different from the tasteless diet you feed me. I don't care if it makes me sick. I want some real food!"
And she'd say: "Don't come near me with that needle! I'm gonna make you look bad in front of your company. I'm gonna howl as soon as you hit me with it."
Peaches: "Whatdya mean I have to go on a diet! I'm not fat. I'm just big-boned. I want more, more, more! Just a bite, just a little bite."
Sweet Pea: "You know I won't eat my dinner unless you put some cat food in my bowl. Hey, it's gotta be room temperature! And don't stir it all together either!"
Jax: "Play with me! Run with me. Look how high I can jump! Play! Play! Oh, are these your shoes? I didn't know. They were on the floor. Rule is anything on the floor is mine. What? Well, ya gave me one pair to chew up. I just figuredWell, they're not that bad. Just a couple of tooth marks here and there, like ventilation for hot feet. I did ya a favor. What are ya doin' with that rolled up newspaper?"
I think I'm pretty content having the critters speechless, in the human sense. Their little whines, whimpers, yelps, woofs, expression-filled eyes, and happy smiles provide a more enjoyable, and quiet, method of communication.
Shar Porier is a reporter for The Banks County News.
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