And kitty makes three

By LINDSAY BIANCHI
lbianchi@thecitizennews.com

It seemed like a really good idea at the time. I had rationalized myself into action, once again, not knowing what I was in for. Yes, I went and did it. I got a kitten!

I kept thinking how lonely Angel, my black Labrador, was getting while I toiled away at work. I thought a “playmate” would be the perfect thing to keep her company while I was away. Besides, I was determined not to battle the mice on my own this winter.

I live in a big, old house and the creatures of the night find their way in through a variety of cracks and crevices. Angel isn’t going to do anything about them. I know that. She would just nuzzle them to death, and I don’t have that kind of time.

That’s where Poe comes in. Yes, I named my cat Poe. He’s all black, get it? Anyway, he is as cute as can be, very affectionate, almost too affectionate. That’s when I have to fling him across the room like a throw pillow. Just kidding. I’m a little stressed out from attentive pet overload.

That brings me to the real issue here. Jealousy.

Poor Angel. I’ve never seen a dog act more like a human in my life! She is so jealous of that cat that I have to sneak around to pet him.

I don’t know what else to do. I’ve tried being diplomatic, but it goes right over their little heads.

The other night I decided to spend some quality time with the two of them. Just me, Angel and Poe, sitting on the couch watching one of our favorite movies together, “Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls.”

Everything was going fine. Angel had found her spot on the east end of the couch, leaving me a few inches at the west end for me to curl up on. Poe, who has no compunction about making his presence known, wedges himself between the two of us. One little happy family, right? Dream on, Steven Tyler!

Suddenly it’s time for despondent dog to take over. Angel musters up her best hangdog expression and aims it at me. She knows that I am a sucker for the “woe is me I’m just a dumb dog” routine.

Somehow I sense that this is a little more serious than usual. Angel is putting her head under a pillow as if she can’t bear to hear Poe purring along side me.

She suddenly gets up and goes to her wingback chair on the other side of the room. This is the chair she goes to when she knows she’s been bad. Suffice to say, she goes there a lot!

So there she is, glaring at me from across the living room while I’m trying to enjoy the spastic antic of Jim Carrey.

Luckily I’ve seen this movie about 1,200 times, so I can afford to miss a few lines here and there. Then I display the most pathetic behavior of the evening and crawl over to the wingback chair and apologize to the dog!

And that’s when I woke up, not from a dream, but from the sad state of affairs my life has become. Oh, who am I kidding. I haven’t awakened from anything.

I am a total slave to these two furballs. They can rip and shred my house from one end to the other and I would probably respond with a great big “Awwww!”

I never said I had the sense that God gave a turkey. Sometimes I wish I were a dumb animal, but I’m only human. There’s a message there somewhere.

Everyone tries to tell me to do this and do that with my dog, but they don’t know her the way I do. Angel has one thing on her mind 24 hours a day. ‘Let’s play chase something and chew it up!’

Poe, on the other hand, doesn’t want to be the chewee. He has to hightail it to the mantle or the dining room table to avoid the jaws of life or death, depending on how lucky he is that day. I have to protect him much of the time.

“They’re only playing.” I tell myself. ‘This is how they do.” Once again, who am I kidding? I would admit that bringing little Poe into the house was a huge mistake, but sometimes, when the two of them are sitting side by side like the lion and the lamb, I can’t help but think the two of them will become good friends.

I even imagine that I will continue this black menagerie. Maybe I’ll get a black momba and put it in an aquarium. I’ll call it Oroborus. And then I’ll find me a big raven and call it Wes, you know, like Wes Raven. Sure, it’s a great idea! One that Gomez Addams would approve of. Very goth. After all, black gooes with everything.

Anybody know where I can find a bust of Pallas?