Phase 7: Hidden Wonders..."All your PETS know is that 'Dad's home'!"

    Despite the thought that I could possibly use a good dose of anti-depressants, being unemployed has allowed me to look at life from many different angles. Many, though, were I to sit down with a psychiatrist, might seem a bit awkward, and possibly reveal more about what's going on in my head than might be prudent! However, I have discovered a group of beings that are more than happy that I am not working... our pets.
    We will start with the cats. One we will skip, she is older and sleeps about 20 hours a day, and could care less about humans in the house as long as they fill the food dish, water bowl and empty the cat box now and then.
    However, there is the other cat - 'The Damn Cat', a I usually name him. Even as I write this blog I have to deal with the stupid cat. He is perched atop my computer, basking in the morning sun. His stupid tail dangling down in front of my screen -  forcing me to bat it out of the way every couple of seconds so I can see what the hell I am typing! But, the cat is happy.
    With me at home he has realized that there is SOMEONE who he can curl up next to and force back into sleep - exuding that special Cat-Atonic-Sleep magic that cats possess. This comes only after he is done with his 4:00 A.M. wake up call - which usually consists of knocking various objects off night stands or dressers - making sure that my wife and I are fully aware that it is cat play-time and he is not to be ignored.
     As I mentioned in an earlier post, were it not for the fact that I have to get both boys up, fed, dressed and out of the house for school, I am SURE that I would be uder the Cat Spell until probably noon each day. But. Alas. Were this the only creature I have to deal with....but oh, no... there... are... the... dogs...
    We have two dogs. Both love having me at home in their own special way. Their appreciation of me has to more with their relative age and how I can make their lives more enjoyable based, apparently on my abilities as both comforter, arbiter, or cruel task master. Here is how it works.
   Dog one, the old one, Ginger. Pushing 12 years old (which is old for a Boxer-Lab mix). Ginger has developed age based conditions, oddly similar to my own and for some reason looks at me with that special gaze that seems to say, "Dude, you, of all the humans in this hous, should understand how I feel!"
    Ginger, for the most part, only wants three things. To sleep in her bed, to sleep on the front-porch-couch next to me (now that the weather has broke) and to be allowed to go out side and chase away the various members of the bird and squirrel species that visit our back yard. Besides a good walk, and a daily massage of her bad hip, that's pretty much it from her.
    Now, on to the other dog, 'The Damn Dog' - as my wife would call him. Hershey is a rambunctious 2 year-old Chocolate Lab that has two definitions of me in his world, maybe three. One. 'He-Who-Uncages-Me, Feeds Me, and Lets me Out'. Two. 'He-Who-Must-Play-With-Me-When-Ever-He-Stands-Up-Or-Moves'. Three. 'He-Who-Must-Let-Me-Haul-My-70 pound body-Into-His-Lap-So-We-Can-Take-A-Nap.' Hey, I don't make these names up! Really. Hershey tells me this himself - - - oh, man I gotta get outside and get some air - I'm interpreting dog thought!
   So, given this understanding of our pets. How does this affect me, now that I am home?
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   Sorry, I'm back. I just had to play the other role - from the pet perspective - that of 'He-Who-Breaks-Up-Slobbery-Fights-Over-Stumps-Of-Rawhide-Bones'. What did they do on the days when I WASN'T here? God, if I didn't know any better they BOTH act like a couple of two year olds! So, I broke up the tussle, freed the bone stumps from UNDER Ginger, who had them in her bed. "Grrrrrrrrrrr." Ginger, (I got the bones and YOU'RE not getting them. - human translation). "Ruh!, Ruh!, Ruh!... Ruh!, Ruh!, RUH!" Hershey, (I - Want - One! I - Want - One!. human translation).
   This goes on for a good 5 minutes before they jump up and are at each other's necks like a couple of tasmanian devils. SO, I pull my self away from my typing, grab them both by the collar, and toss them outside. Ah..... I think I have one! But wait.... Why is it so quiet outside???
    I chance a peek out the back door... Hershey is getting his vengance by dragging branches and wood from the wood pile all over the back yard, and Ginger is getter her vengance, by apparently digging to China through my tulip beds!
"God, Damn it Dogs!!!!!"
---- I gotta go....