Me: I know we haven't had a meeting in quite awhile, but since we have a new family member, I thought it would be a good idea to give you all a chance to voice any concerns and share your thoughts.  We'll get started just as soon as Mabel comes out from behind the TV and Peep gets off of my lap.  Yes, there's thunder outside, but you've all heard it before and as I've repeatedly told you, it's just noise; not the drums of an approaching army of the apocolypse.  

Is everyone settled?  Good, let's get started.  How about we all start by saying hello and telling Mabel anything you think she might need to know about living here.

Beau: welcome Little Lady.  We've all lived with your people before so you need not fear that any of us will do you any harm.  I'm here to protect you even if that means being stern with the rest of the pack.  I am forever at your service.

Sam: I can't believe you're finally here!  I've been asking and asking for a kitty ever since we came home to live with Beloved!!  I love to cuddle with you guys so if you get cold come on over and tuck yourself right in.  In a few months I'll have long hair again for the snuggling.  But do you think you could skip that thing that you guys always do?  I think it's called "making biscuits".  Or at least wait until my hair grows back?  I remember that you guys all have really sharp toes and I'm kind of naked.

Me: Wesson, do you think you could get your nose out of Mabel's butt long enough to say something?

Wesson: *comes around to the front of the cat...reluctantly*  Thanks for letting me check you out, I'll probably need to do that at least once a day.  You know, just to be sure everything's ok. And thanks for bringing the candy box, when do you think you'll be making those wonderful crunchy things.  I love those!

Me: listen up everyone: that is NOT a candy box.  It doesn't contain buried treats.  You're all to stay out of there.  C'mon guys, we've been over this a million times, let's see if we can avoid all of the bad breath on your side and gagging on my side.  

Smith: *whispering to Wesson*  yeah, well she's gone all day isn't she? What she doesn't see can't hurt us.  

Me: I heard that.  Do have anything to say to Mabel?

Smith: why do you give us all such dumb names?  Who names a cat Mabel?  Oh wait, that'd be you.  

Me: crabby this morning are we?

Smith: you'd be crabby too if you spent the night with some complete stranger trying to take over your spot in the bed.  It's a big bed, why did she have to get all up in my space?  Tell her she can't do that.

Me: actually, I didn't get a lot of sleep either you know.  I'd forgotten what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night with a cat on my face. But I think it's a good sign that she didn't spend the night hiding under something.   I'll talk to her privately about sleeping etiquette. 

Smith: please do.  OK fuzzball, listen up.  There's a few things you need to keep in mind if we're going to get along.  First, I'm the favorite, The Lady loves me best.  That means I get first dibs on her lap and I ALWAYS get to sit closest to her.  Second, if anything delicious falls on the floor, it's mine.  Don't even think of trying to get it before I do.  I might not have all of my teeth, but I've got enough left to make you regret you ever set foot in here.  And third, I let you slap me once, but if you try that again, I'll end you.  Oh, one more thing:  we'll talk later about getting you on a schedule for making those treats Wesson mentioned.

Me: really? We just went over the whole cat box thing......I guess we'll have to go over it a few thousand more times.  Moving on.  Mabel, do you have anything you'd like to share with the group?

Mabel: actually, my real name is Princess Perfection Ruler of All Things Everywhere, but I'm ok with Mabel if it makes you happy.  I just want to say thanks for getting me out of that place where you found me.  The cage was really small and it smelled pretty bad in there.  The  humans were all really nice, but the other inmates were either mad or crushed about being there and it made me sad.  Anyway, it's nice to meet all of you, I like it here already!  I'm sorry I slapped everybody, I can't promise it won't happen again, but I'll try to keep my foot-swords pulled in when I hit you.  

Me: * eyeroll* good talk.

Dear Dogs,

I wanted to give you a heads up about a significant change that going to happen tomorrow.  

I went to the Humane Society today.  That's the place that Steve came from, and, no Smith, I didn't get another dog, you can relax. I went to have a look at the cats.  I've kind of been missing having a cat and it's been a long time since we've had one in the family.  I really intended to just take a look, see who was there. You know, the usual.

There were sooo many kitties.  Not kittens, old cats mostly and a few younger ones. They were all hanging out in their cages, acting cool, being uninterested in anything, thinking their little cat thoughts about overthrowing civilization.  You know, the usual.  Anyway, I took a look at everyone, some of them looked back and told me I was boring, one of them said I smelled funny, and another one hissed at me and called me a moron.  

But there was this one little girl, very tiny for a one year old, her card said she weighs 7lbs, but that might be stretching it.  The card also said that she was a stray that someone had brought in.  I got up close to look in the cage because she was way in the back and hard to see. As I was leaning in, she came to the front of the cage, stretched her little paw through the bars and very gently booped me.  Then she sat down, looked me straight in the eyes and opened her mouth like she was going to meow.  But all that came out was a hoarse little squeek.  I spent some time in one of the visiting rooms with her and she squeeked at me a little more and did all the rubbing things and climbing on me (gently).  But in addition to not having a voice, she doesn't have a motor. Weird.  What she does have is swollen little boobies, so she's a mom, but no one found any babies when they found her.  Maybe that's why she doesn't have a voice, maybe she lost it when she was crying for her kids.  Mostly she seemed very lovey and happy to be petted and cuddled.  So, of course, I put a deposit on her.

She doesn't look very happy in the picture, but she really is a sweetie.  She said her name is Mabel, and she's really looking forward to meeting all of you.  I'm going to pick her up after work tomorrow.  I expect all of you to be on your best behavior and make a good first impression.  And Sam, try to contain yourself.  I know you've been waiting for this for a long time, but if you get too wound up, you'll scare her and she'll spend the weekend under the bed and none of us will get aquainted.  

Who's excited?!?!?!?!

xxoo,

Alpha

Dear Dogs,

This will probably be the last letter I write to you. At least for awhile.  Today was awful.  Yesterday was bad, but today was the worst.  

I'm sure you've noticed that I took Steve out in the car, but I didn't bring him back.  I wish I could say he's away at camp, but he's not.  He won't be back.  He's sleeping the forever sleep.  After he hurt Smith yesterday, I didn't feel like I had any other choice.

I know we all thought that his problem was only with Sam, but we saw that wasn't the case yesterday when he went after Smith.  Granted, Smith started it, just like Sam always started it.  But Steve always wins.  And seeing Smith in that huge mouth and hearing him yelp was more than I could bear.  Smith is in Corvallis recovering and seeing an acupuncturist and I know he'll be fine when he gets home.   He has a few scrapes, but other than that and some bruising and neck pain, he's fine.  But he could be dead.  I know he bit Steve after Steve stepped on him, but Smith doesn't have very many teeth and it didn't even leave a mark.  But it was enough to push Steve over the edge of the crazy cliff and I think that if I hadn't been right  there, Smith would have had about 30 seconds to live.   

I spent the majority of the day trying to find a place for Steve, but all of the pitbull rescues are overfull and they're not taking anymore dogs.  And the shelters flat out told me that he wasn't adoptable with his history.  I couldn't trust him with any of the pack anymore, and I started worrying about the grandbits.  I don't even want to think about the possibilities with that.

So I did the only other thing I could do: I sent him off on his last adventure and told him to introduce himself to all of the other dogs and cats and horses that he'll meet that are waiting for me.  I'm sure he'll get along great with the Corgis especially, they're as much made out of joy as Steve was and not a lot brighter.

I expect my eyes will be leaking for at least a little while.  Anyone who wants to sit and/or sleep with me or around me or even on me is more than welcome.  I can guarantee I won't complain about shedding hair or how much you weigh.

xxoo

Oh So Sad Alpha

Me:  Sam, could you come in here for a minute?  I have something exciting to tell you.

Sam: I'll be right there, I'm in the garage and you know how much trouble I have with the stairs.  Why do we have these?  I don't like them. I don't like getting a running start to do something.

Me: you don't like having to make a running start to do anything.  I'll wait.

Sam: made it!  What's up?  You said it was exciting!  Is it time to eat again? Are we going in the car?  Are you passing out cookies?  ARE WE GETTING A KITTEN?!?!?

Me: no, it's not time to eat, you just ate 15 minutes ago and as usual, you cleaned up for everyone so you should be good for awhile.  I'm not passing out cookies, and we absolutely are NOT getting a kitten.  We talked about that; you know we can't even have any stuffed animals because Steve disembowls them with 5 minutes. Thank god stuffing passes right through him.  I just can't bring in a tiny kitten and have him mistake it for a toy.  He wouldn't hurt it out of meanness, but I'm not taking any chances.

Sam: I'd protect it, I promise.  I'd give my life for a kitten.

Me: need I remind you that you can't even protect yourself from Steve?  Should I pull out all the vet bills?

Sam: *hangs head* you didn't need to bring that up, I'd almost forgotten the trauma.  Now I have to relive it all over again.

Smith: there's an obvious solution you know: the village idiot has to go.  If he wasn't here we could have tons of cats.  We all love cats: you feed them that heavenly food. Soooo much better than what what we eat. And let's not forget the almond roca that they leave in their boxes of sand.  That stuff is wonderful, better than cookies!  I've always been impressed that cats can make treats with their butts.  Amazing!

Me: as always, thanks for your input Smith. But let's review: Steve isn't going anywhere. And more importantly, I'm not yet at the point in my life when I'm ready to become a crazy cat lady that gets to have my own episode on "Hoarders".  Check back in 20 years, I might be ready then.   

Sam: go away small brown almost a dog, she was talking to me.

Smith: *showing his teeth fiercely* I'll cut you bitch.

Me: Sam, I made an appointment to have you groomed!  Your're going to get your hair evened out!  Now that all of the bald spots that were shaved for stitches have grown back, you're starting to look like a poodle that was run over by a lawn mower.  I've heard the others making fun of you behind your back, and I have to say you're looking a little ragged.  Doesn't that sound great? 

Sam: yaaaay!  I'm going to get groomed!  I love to get groomed!  It's the best ever!! I'm pumped! I'm dancing and singing!         Wait, what does grooomed mean?

Me: well, first, you get to ride in the car.

Sam: Yesssss!

Me: and we drive the car to The Vet.  You love that place, remember?  And everyone there loves you, lord knows they've seen enough of you.

Sam: you're right, I LOVE The Vet!!!!  This is getting good. *wag wag wag*

Me: when you get there they'll give you a bath and then

Sam: stop right there.  Did you say "bath"? Don't you remember how much I hate baths?

Me: believe me, I remember.  The last time we attempted that the bathroom looked like a pipe had burst, how did you get so much water on the ceiling?, and you knocked the shower door off the track. Not to mention the fact that my youngest puppy is still having nightmares about trying to get the bath accomplished since he was kind enough to help. And the most incredible part is that we gave up once we realized that you were hardly even wet, let alone clean.  But there's a professional groomer at the vet and she has special equipment to get the job accomplished.  Like maybe general anesthesia, or at least 4 point restraints.  And you'll be so handsome when it's done!

Sam: not. going. to. happen.

Smith: hahahahahaha! A bath! Ask them to put a bow on his head.

Me: you're not helping, Smith. And have you forgotten that I can just pick you up and put you in the sink if I feel you need a bath?

Smith: I gotta pee, don't bother opening the door, I'll just stare at you while I lift my leg on the couch.

Dear Dogs,

As I'm sure you know, there was a thunderstorm last night.  This was not the first storm any of you had been through, and it wasn't a particularly bad one.  At least I didn't think so, you all seemed to think it was the beginning of The End Times.  The whining, pacing and panting was epic; good job and well done to all of you on that front.  

Between the thunder, the sound of rain on the tin roof and everyone's terror, it was a little hard for me to sleep.  I was almost drifting off despite your racket when a particularly loud and close lightning-thunder combination sent all of you into orbit.  I was already sharing the bed with The Weiners, who, by the way were vibrating like...well, I'm not sure what but it was intense.  Wesson, draping yourself across my face did not make you any safer than spooning with your brother would have.  Smith, I know you were scared, but chewing and licking your foot really didn't help did it?  

Peep and Sam, I must say, I was impressed by your sudden athletisism. I think in the future when you ask to get up on the bed and expect me to hoist you up there, I'm going to ignore you.  Based on last night's performance, I now know that you're both perfectly capable of jumping up (and catching quite a bit of air in the process) all by yourselves.  

Beau, thank you for being brave and laying sadly at the side of the bed. You could have joined everyone, lord knows the other side of the bed was virtually empty since I was clinging to the edge on my side.  It's a king sized bed, plenty of room on the other side.  Steve, I hope you were comfortable laying on the pillows on the side next to my head.  That was a pretty good choice, I wasn't crowding me.  But I think we're going to look into some probiotics for you, or maybe being afraid made you gassier than usual.  Whatever it was, I woke up this morning with no eyebrows, I think they melted off.  Next time, let's have you lay with your face towards me instead of your tail end in my face.

So everyone, I'm off to work.  I hope I can make it through the day without falling asleep in front of a forklift or stumbling into something sharp.  I know you'll be able to use the day to catch up on the sleep you missed last night.  Wouldn't want any of you to be fatigued today.  Good thing I have no social life, that makes it easier to just come home and fall down dead.  I don't have to cancel any fun plans.  

xxoo,

Dead On My Feet Alpha