Going to the dogs

I love my pets. I love them more than food, although I don't think they could say the same of their love for me.

Our dog, Jersey, a cocker spaniel was the queen of our hearts. We had her for more than 15 years, since she was less than 6 weeks old. She was just a teenie thing when we bought her -- it's a long story, but we had to buy her, rather than adopt. She was a real baby and when we'd leave her along, she'd cry in our front window like a baby. Fortunately, she got a kitty and although they fought like the proverbial cat and dog, they loved each other.

But last summer, Jersey got very sick. Her breathing was labored and she was coughing. She took a turn for the worse one night and I had to rush her to the local Pet Emergency Care. They put her in an oxygen cage. The next day, Rob and I took her to her vet, where we were told that she was very ill and probably wouldn't make it though the night.

We looked at her, and she was calm. She was with us and we made her happy. So we decided it was time. The doctor injected her and we held her as she died. It was one of the saddest things I've ever done.

I'd always known the day would come, after all, as Rob says, loving a pet is like loving a child with a terminal illness. They just aren't going to live that long. We also knew we'd never replace our Jersey. I wanted a couple of months, and we had the company of Brindle, a black poodle/shitzu mix who is one of the sweetest dogs. Brindle ended up staying with us because of a long list of circumstances, but she went back to be with her mommy and I wanted another dog.

I was determined to adopt a dog this time, believing that there are way too many unwanted animals in the world for me to be buying a dog. I contacted a local rescue group, 4 Small Paws out of Newbury Park, Calif., and asked if I could be considered as a prospective adoptee. Within days, I received a call. There was a chihuahua who needed a home. He had been found wandering the streets with a broken leg. The problem was that he people who tried to adopt him had cats and this doggie loves to chase cats.

I had no problem in that area. Our two cats have faced down the cocker spaniels that belong to my friend. The dogs would stay with us when their mom and dad went away. Our big cat, Mythos, is over 17 pounds. The other cat, Lily -- short for Lil' Kitti -- has enough attitude for 50 cats. One day one of the cocker spaniels tried to growl at her and she just went up and started smelling the dog's teeth. This served to so confuse the dog that she gave up the growling and walked away.

I figured a little 7 pound dog wouldn't intimidate my kids. I was right. When the 4 Small Paws lady Lori arrived she was holding the little white and reddish brown boy. He came in and was terrified -- except for some peeing on the hearth -- and sat there shivering. I showed Lori our house. The yard the dog would have. The bed next to ours if he didn't want to sleep with us, which we prefer. We showed her Jersey's ashes on the mantle with her collar and a picture, next to the ashes and picture of her Kitti.

Lori decided to give us a try and left the dog with us. Lori called him Chewy, but he didn't seem like a Chewy. The family wanted to name him something Mexican, but I vetoed all their suggestions, up to and including Senior PeePee. Everyone had just seen the "Motorcycle Diaries," and we decided on Fuser, which was Che Guevera's nickname and means wildman.

Fuser ended up joining our family, and found that the cats were less than cooperative about the chasing game. So he would cry until they would play. Mythos the cat really isn't "into" being chased by a dog less than half his size, so unless he's feeling particularly magnanimous, he won't run. Lily actually likes the game and has been know to jump of Fuser to get him to chase her.

Little Fuser started out as a very timid little guy. But I have him lots of love and he's a lot more secure now. He does have a thing for Rob and will run from him. We took Fuser to an obedience class. He really didn't get a whole lot out of it, although he did learn a trick where he plays dead when you go "bang," and point a finger at him -- imaginary gun style.

Then Brindle ended up coming back to stay because her mommy moved to Oregon. Brindle and Fuser get along wonderfully. They love going to the beach and just running after each other. Their biggest bone of contention is their sleep position. Apparently the rule is the one higher and tighter to mommy wins. I have to be careful in my sleep because I never know who I'll be rolling on to.

We'd settled into life as a two dog family. Then around my birthday in February, my daughter informed me that her roommate had found a dog wandering in El Rio, a local, poor community. We took Rascal in and had him groomed and given shots and finally neutered. He and Fuser have discovered a kind of "Brokeback Mountain" kind of intense physical love, which they feel the need to share with the world. And Brindle has established herself as Top Dog.

Rob was entirely against the adoption, but one thing about Rob is that he loves animals as much as I do, so if I keep the animal in question around, he'll cave. It's worked four times now. Lily and Mythos both showed up on our doorsteps, crying and cold. We've never actually sought to get a cat, but we've ended up with three during the course of our marriage.

The dogs are a bit of a problem because Rascal isn't housebroken and Fuser and Brindle, who've always looked at housebreaking as an option, decided, why bother. I'm making a little progress with Fuser and Brindle, but Rascal has no clue. He'll cry to come in so he can poopie inside. I have so many cans of cleaning products, I could open a de-stink store.

But they are cute. I often refer to them as Moe, Curly and Larry, and they do seem as though they feel they're a pack. A wild pack of wolves, they say. They're not the cool dogs I'd always pictured myself walking along the beach with, all of us with our hair blowing in the wind. Then again, I was supposed to look like Joan Allen, but I have more of a Kathy Bates thing going.

I enjoy spending time with my babies, and they all are. I think it is such a wonderful thing that there are animals who want to hang out with us and give us love. Sure they have a pretty good deal: free food and board and a minimum of expectations. Your dog isn't going to do poorly in school. Your dog isn't going to talk back -- although your cats might. You don't have to worry about being too disappointed in your dog, well, unless he poops on a neighbors rug or something.

As Charles Schulz said, "Happiness is a warm puppy." Kitties aren't so bad either.