Upstairs cat/downstairs cat

We have had Gir for a few months now; actually almost a year. She has only come upstairs voluntarily one time. We think it was to ask the kids where the heck mom and dad had gone. (Husband and I had been gone for a few days). My son almost died from shock when he opened his bedroom door and there she was. "Meow?" was all she had to say to him.

Usually, some brave soul carries her upstairs by her armpits (Leg pits? What do you call those on a cat?) and places her on a shelf in the upstairs living room. She sits still as a statue, or she growls when she spies Rex, our "upstairs" cat. Poor Rex actually doesn't seem to mind Gir. She just growls, hisses and howls wildly when he enters "her" space downstairs. Anyhow, eventually, Gir will slink back downstairs. She's not as stealthy as she thinks. The dog does in fact see her as she passes by.

We've discovered that she may be a Snow Bengal, which is a cat breed. On the description of the Snow Bengal in our breed book, it says, helpfully, under "penalties" against the breed in show,

"Aggressive behavior which threatens to harm."

Well that's our girl. Gir has so far sent my husband and a vet tech, and lord knows who else to the emergency room with a severe bite wound. Where was this helpful book when we were adopting her from PAWS?

Anyhow, we try to watch TV once a day with her, the TV being downstairs in her area. She's mostly friendly, until she gets that crazy "I am consumed with the thought of chomping you" look on her cross-eyed face. Then you know it's time to move away from her, or gently push her off of your lap with a pillow.

Sheesh, the things we do for our animals.

Ink Spot

Today on Facebook, one of my friends asked people whether she should get a dog or a cat as a pet for her family. This sort of quesiton makes my family jump up and down and wave their arms in the air. "Don't EVER get a dog!" my kids and I shout. Husband just smiles smugly. He warned us. "Dogs are foul," he said as we waived the shelter flyer in his face, some 8 years ago.

Husband grew up with dogs. He had a dog in college, a husky-wolf mix, that lived with him until someone stole the dog. Zeke was his name. Zeke did many foul things that I won't discuss here. Still, the kids and I persisted. "Three against one!" we shouted gleefully. He just sighed. I should note that I only briefly had a dog as a child, so I had no idea what I was getting into. I tend to ignore facts like these when making decisions, not my best attribute.

Ink Spot was adopted from PAWS, a great local shelter which I've mentioned in an earlier post. He was so popular online from PAWS' website, that when we went in to visit him, there was a drawing to see who would be first to visit with Ink and hopefully adopt him. We got all our paperwork in order and dropped our name in the hat. We won.

I love Ink, don't get me wrong. He's a good friend, really sweet, very cute, loves people, is generally good with other dogs, and surprisingly, does not bark. (Unless the UPS truck or our paperboy comes by). But I must say, the degree to which husband was right is embarassing, and he likes this fact. In the time we've had Ink Spot, here are some of his more memorable behaviors:

• trotted by us with a roast in his mouth
• knocked my daughter head-over-heels on one occasion; down the stairs at least twice
• ate an entire plate of chocolate truffles
• gets into the neighbors' unsecured garbage (usually around Thanksgiving)
• after the above step, proceeded to be sick all over the downstairs carpet, instead of the upstairs wood floor
• ate an entire bag (Halloween size) of Jolly Rancher candy
• greets all new people by shoving his face in their crotch
• adores the cat boxes and the tasty treats found within

I could go on, but don't want to ruin any snack you might be eating right now. And it's not just Ink: my friend's dog once got into a cupboard, seized a bottle of cooking oil, and proceeded to douse her couches and carpet in Wesson.
That being said, dogs need to be walked, cleaned up after, and taken to the kennel when you go out of town. Ink doesn't care if we hire the nicest house sitter in the world for our vacations. He howls when the house sitter leaves to go to work, or just to the mailbox. They need vet care, and your vaccuuming duties will increase by tenfold unless you adopt a poodle. (They don't shed as much as other dogs, apparently).

So get a cat. Or a parakeet. You have been warned.