~ Samuel Butler
I’m a cat person. I’ve written about my cats a number of times, including my posts Five Feline Lessons on Life, and More Cat Wisdom, where I’ve let the cats share their sage philosophies on life.
This weekend, however, I was dog-sitting for my daughter while she was out of town, and I had a chance to chat with my grand-puppy Finnigan, a sweet mini long-haired dachshund. Finnigan said he had some wisdom of his own that he wanted to impart. I was skeptical at first, but I agreed to take down what he had to say. Here are the highlights:
Have faith, and good things will come your way. Finnigan suffers from food allergies and so he’s on a special diet. That means no treats, no table scraps, no nothin’ (his words) other than his prescribed diet. But Finnigan has learned that if someone is eating and if he sits ever so patiently and expectantly at their feet, inevitably they will drop some tasty little morsel and he can snap it up, practically before it hits the floor. And even if it’s not a tasty morsel, it doesn’t matter because it’s in his stomach before he’s had a chance to actually taste it. It’s more about quantity than quality in Finnigan’s food world.
Who says cats aren’t any fun? Finnigan likes to play with my kitties when he’s over here. One of his games seems to be “bowl the cat over,” which he plays with my cat Sebastian. Sebastian takes it in stride, usually rolling onto his back and licking Finnigan while Finnigan lovingly tries to pull the cat’s ear off.
Finnigan’s other game is “chase the kitty, but don’t get too close,” which he plays with my kitty Thursday. Thursday tends to turn the tables on Finnigan sometimes, and when she stops running and turns to make a stand, Finnigan is quick to retreat. He’s sure, though, that Thursday’s hissing and swatting are all part of the game, too.
It’s all in the eyes. While cats can purr their way into our hearts, all dogs have to do is look at us with their soulful eyes and they’ve got us by the heartstrings. Dogs know they can snag your pot roast off the dinner table or dig up your prize winning geraniums, and while you may get mad at them, one look into those big brown pools of unconditional love and all is forgiven. Finnigan’s claiming innocence about his own personal use of this ploy, but he doesn’t fool me. I’m onto his tricks.
There’s no problem so big that a walk won’t fix it. Finnigan loves to take walks. There’s just so much to see (even from ground level on his short little legs), and so much to smell, and so many trees to water that one can’t help but be uplifted by taking a tour around the block. I could stand to learn from his joie de vivre (other than the whole tree watering business).
Cats rule and dogs drool… sure, why not? Finnegan knows that the surest way into someone’s heart is through his own heart. He doesn’t have to put on airs, he just provides love and companionship, and he still walks away with the biggest bone.
Well, Finnigan’s all tuckered out now and has curled up for a nap on the couch next to me. Sebastian has gone outside to show the stray neighborhood cat who’s boss (um, that would be the stray cat), and Thursday is hanging out in the bedroom, which she knows is a “no Finnigan” zone. Finnigan hopes he’s been of some help, and he hopes I drop some crumbs from the scone I am eating... not necessarily in that order. Even a dog has priorities.