Our grandmother Sommers had a cocker spaniel named “Cinder”. She
lived to be very old and seemed to have been around forever during our youth
and beyond. I always wondered if she found the “Dog fountain of youth”. She
always slept under the rear of the bathtub since there was a gap there. Our
grandmother had one of the old type porcelain bathtubs that had short legs with
“claws” on the bottom that gripped a round ball. “Cinder” was not fond of
little kids ESPECIALLY US. Every time we would go to “Ma’s” house, as we called
her, “Cinder” would run and hide under her bathtub hideaway. I don’t ever
remember neither Tim nor I having ever petted her. This also went for all the
cats we had at the farm. I FINALLY knew I had “matured” as an adult when I
could approach all of our cats to pet them and not have them run away at full
speed whenever I got within 100 feet of them. I imagine if “Cinder” was still
around, that I could FINALLY get to pet her, maybe. Of course, if she still were
around, she’d be about 60 + years old! Oh well, I guess I’ll never know what it
would have been like to pet her.
One amusing thing about “Cinder” was
that our grandmother (“Ma”) would give her Tootsie Roll “Midgees”. That was one
of her favorite snacks. I was surprised that her teeth didn’t all fall out
since our mother warned us this would happen to us if WE ate too much candy. Of
course, maybe her teeth DID fall out. We never would have known since we only
saw her rear running away from us at a distance. Of course the fact that Tim
and I usually raided the Tootsie Roll Midgee bag didn't exactly endear
"Cinder" to us. The above picture is about the only time I've ever
seen her face from close up.
Whenever our mother and we would have
a meal at “Ma’s” house, “Cinder” would ALWAYS run down to the basement, or as
“Ma” used to call it, “Down cellar”. We later found out the reason why she did
this, since we kids assumed that she did that because we were within a 100 feet
of her. Our mother used to detest hearing anyone “eating loud” and chewing
crunchy things around her. This is one of many traits I inherited from her.
When our mother still lived there before she got married, “Cinder” would chew
up bones at her dog food dish in the kitchen where they always ate. As soon as
“Cinder” would start chewing bones, our mother would shoo her away to the
cellar door, which was always open, and yell at her, “Go down cellar to eat
that”. As a result, whenever our mother would be at “Ma’s” house to eat,
even if she wasn’t eating anything, “Cinder” STILL ran “down cellar”! This was
years after our mother lived there! I guess dogs and elephants never forget.
The same goes for cats, since after I “matured” and didn’t maul cats anymore,
the present generation of cats at that time STILL ran away from me whenever I
got with 100 feet of them. Now days whenever I go into the barn to feed all 14
+ of my “barn cats” (including a few strays now and then that stop by for a
free meal), they always run up to me and surround me and gather under my feet.
It’s really hard to walk to the feed box since I have to take great care not to
step on any of them. I’ve often wondered if they do this because I’m now
“matured” or that they are so hungry they just don’t care even if it’s ME. Ah,
“maturity” at last! (Although MANY people would disagree that I am finally
“mature”). When I say that I’m going through my second “childhood” they say
that I’ve never gotten out of my FIRST one yet! What do they know, at least the
cats know!
If I ever get the 3 house cats to get
over their fear of dogs, I am planning to get a Golden Retriever someday. I've
always wanted one. I'll probably have to wait until the cats finally get too
old to care anymore. Our small animal veterinarian says that the best way to
have cats and dogs get along is to get all of them when they are very young so
as they grow up together, they will like each other. I'm not so sure about this
theory since my brother, sister and I all grew up together, and we never got
along then. However, maybe it's different with animals. Someday I'll
pragmatically test that theory. If not, then I'll have to practice writing a
classified newspaper ad for the "Pets" category:
Golden
Retriever puppy. 8 weeks old. Gets along great with older people. Hates cats.
Free to good home...
Or... Three kittens. Get along great with older people. Hates dogs. Free to
good home...
I guess I'll just have to wait and see
how it goes. In reflecting the immortal words of Rodney King, "Why can't we all just get along?"
Of course he was only talking about race relations and not cats and dogs, which
no doubt presents the greater challenge than race or world relations. The applicability
of the aforementioned statement remains to be seen. I'll keep you posted with
postings in the post period unless I have to go to the post office, or install
a fence post in the pasture after eating Post Toastees and reading the latest
issue of the Saturday Evening Post from my out post. Oh Oh, I had better stop
this post haste!
