The Life of Pets; When Your Human in an Instructor for Code 3
Authored by Charlotte Robinson DVM
Students have asked me for years about my animals, I thought over the next few weeks I might introduce them to you with snippets from my life on the road.
I got home recently from a 2-week West Coast swing, and my cats let me know that they did not like playing second fiddle to my teaching gig. The classes in Sacramento and Reno were populated by great students and were held at exceptional venues, so the teaching part of the trip was invigorating for me, the traveling, proved to be otherwise.
Airline travel has become a study in “Are you kidding me!?!” My initial itinerary was so bad that the ticket agent in Reno asked who I had pissed off. I advised him I figured out how United Airlines mapped their routes. It involved a map of the United States drawn onto a road. The release a squirrel on the road. Then the destination is traced where the squirrel crisscrossed back and forth as it was dodging potholes, playing with leaves, chasing other squirrels and birds, jumping over the cracks in asphalt, not to mention playing chicken with passing vehicles. He gave me a funny look as if he can comprehend what I just said. “Is that a reference only animal-welfare personnel understand?” After sharing my insightful epiphany, bless his heart, he fixed my flight! Best news is that I did not have to spend time in Porkopolis! (That’s Cincinnati for you non-Cincinnatian’s)
I drug into my house after over 18hrs on the road and my cats were slightly less than joyous. Now, I did what most pet owners do after a long absence, I want to see and cuddle each of my kitties. Ghost, who is a black, spayed female, domestic shorthair, greets me at the door screaming “Owww,, Owwwwww-wow, oww,” I should note that this high pitched, loud, screaming is the result me trying to teach her to ask for her favorite treat by yowling “chicken.” Needless to say, that was a failure. Ghost wants a treat now, no “hello,” no snuggles, no “how was your trip.” I pick her up as she maintains her screaming and cursing. “Has she lost weight?” Guilt trip commences…..
In walks, House Panther, HP for short. He is a black, neutered male, domestic shorthair. Once a feral barn cat, he was not trapped until he was about 3 years old. He was released and captured yet again years later as he was dying of pneumonia. Once rehabilitated, he decided he needed a human servant. I am that servant. Committed to his roll, he refuses to go outside, sleeps on my head at night, and has appointed himself the official taste tester of all cat food. He sits on the kitchen trash can and demands a taste, off a spoon, of any food fed. I pick him up and he snuggles and purrs and rubs his ear against mine (good thing he doesn’t have ear mites). I put him down and he jumps on the trash can, making my function abundantly clear. I’m relieved when I realize I found the weight Ghost lost, HP assumed it!
Thank goodness. I certainly would not want stray weight lurking around the house, it might find me and I have enough.
Stay tuned I’ll introduce the rest of the crew later.
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