Road of No Return

The kitten, now a grown up little lady of 14 months, scales the back of the couch, reaches the top and flings herself on the unsuspecting small brown dog.  There's a wail of terror just before chaos breaks out - cats flee wildly, the little dachshund immediately alerts - and the small brown dog leaps all a tremble into my lap, her eyes wide with fright, her ears laid back in fear.  She isn't harmed but her timid nature has her shaking like a leaf and I can feel her heart pounding.  I hold her tightly, speaking softly and stroking her while the little dachshund looks on worriedly but it still takes several minutes before she's calm and willing to crawl back into her nest of pillows.  She curls ups, nose to tail, still wary, still listening, her eyes darting for signs of a second assault.  It takes a full half hour before she's sure enough to sleep again.

Not for the first time do I find myself wondering where it all went wrong and how I lost control.  I keep going back to marrying a dog person.

Once you got used to the idea, a houseful of cats was mostly manageable.  One led to two and two led to three and so forth and so on.  There was always a perfectly good reason to say yes to a new kitten.  I hadn't had dogs since being a kid - far more trouble and responsibility - but husband number two was clever enough to understand that while I could turn down a dog I hadn't seen, discovering one on my doorstep was quite another matter.  Not that I didn't come to love each and every one but the fact is that they turned my life more upside down then the husband did.  I had every intention of seeing them through their lives and then returning to a houseful of cats - worry-free, independent, self-sufficient cats - but it was too late and I'd been compromised. It was a road of no return.

People frequently ask if they all get along and I always say More or less.  It's as good an answer as any.