My mother spent a few days with me over the holidays, and I reluctantly drove her home to northwest Ohio on New Year’s Eve, loath to see her leave.
My plan was simple, and went as expected. I spent the night and drove home on New Year’s Day to miss a predicted spell of bad weather.
My mother’s dogs came along for their own mini vacation, which delighted my dog and dismayed my cat. The visiting pooches are a Sheltie, smaller and older than mine, and a beagle.
If you want to feel loved, come home to a house with that combination of dogs. The cacophony usually began with my Maggie, who recognized the sound of my car, but sometimes the beagle Buddy took the lead.
Once the first bark sounded, the others joined in, Buddy’s bay soaring above the steady woofing of the other two canines. Had they stayed one day longer, I would have felt compelled to send bouquets of flowers and hand-written notes of apology to all the neighbors.
Tabby, the only feline in the mix, has a wonderful relationship with Maggie. Since Robbie, the other Sheltie, pretty much spends his time sleeping or waddling to the water dish, she was OK with him as well.
Now, Buddy ... that’s another story.
Like the Shelties, Buddy loves cats. The trouble is, he needs to learn the proper etiquette of approaching one.
Being of a simple nature, he chose the direct approach. As soon as Tabby made a tentative appearance at the open banister leading to the second floor or around the kitchen door frame, Buddy sprang into action. Off he rushed to greet her, his feet whomping against the hardwood floor.
At the first click of nail against polished oak, Tabby was gone like a gray flash, leaving chaos in her wake.
By the end of the second day, Tabby had discovered two places of refuge: a basket atop the armoire in my bedroom, where she usually sleeps, and the basement, which Buddy was forbidden to enter.
Robbie is a dog of great complacency, and he really didn’t want to leave his spot in the kitchen of his own house. We forced him into the car and brought him south, which he greatly resented. One of his first acts was to line out his complaints in Sheltie, to which Maggie barked a reply.
They had several conversations over the few days of Robbie’s visit. Apparently, at one point, Maggie invited him to extend his stay, because Robbie had no intention of getting back in the car to go home. Luckily, he’s small and easy to pick up and plunk in the back seat, whether he likes it or not.
The trip north was uneventful, with both dogs sleeping all the way. Although I love to spend time in the land of my nativity, it didn’t bother me at all to jump in the car and head home on Jan. 1.
In fact, I remember thinking to myself as I drove through light snow past a time-and-temperature sign that read 17 degrees, how nice it would be to return to the warmer climes of Kentucky ... which was before I realized that Old Man Winter had hitched a ride south.
CATHIE SHAFFER can be reached at (606) 473-9851.
Columns
Cathie Shaffer: Holidays gone to the dogs:1/5/10
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