Columbia Star

1963        Celebrating 60 Years      2023

Fiesty Felines and Persnickety Pups

I’m just saying...



“Julia…I think you double ordered the pet food by mistake. There’s another box out here from Chewy. We just got one a couple of days ago.”

When I heard this from my husband, Marty, I knew I was busted.

We started ordering online during the whole COVID insanity. It was so convenient not to have to drag home kitty litter and bags and boxes of dog and cat food that we just kept it up. I usually order the biggest amount so it lasts longer, and for two orders to show up in a week aroused his suspicions.

I needed to think fast.

“Oh…another box huh?” So much for fast thinking.

“Yeah! But we can send the double order back, right? And they’ll take it off the card?”

“Well…actually, Marty…I ordered the paté by mistake and neither Charlie (the dog) or Copper (the cat) like it. I just ordered the Gravy Lovers for both of them.”

“They didn’t ‘like’ it? What do you mean they didn’t LIKE it? They’ll eat anything if they’re hungry.”

“Noooo…they really won’t. Copper likes to lick the gravy up and Charlie likes his food moist.”

“Julia…I’ve seen Copper chomping down on a BUG! And Charlie…he comes in from the yard licking his lips! Who knows what he’s been eating?”

“But Marty…they don’t LIKE the paté! They never finish it.”

“Well, maybe they don’t finish it because they ate something else. Maybe Copper got herself a lizard or something. Maybe Charlie dug up a bone?”

“A BONE? Have you been giving Charlie BONES?” Deflection is a great way to get the heat off of me.

“Oh, for crying out loud! Of COURSE I don’t give him bones. I meant one of his treats. You know how he likes to take them out and bury them. He probably goes back and digs them up. It probably makes him feel like a real dog since you take him to the groomer and get him all prissy!”

“PRISSY? He does NOT look ‘prissy!’ He looks like his people care about him! He looks very dapper and debonair!”

“Dee-bon what? Oh please! You have him in those short cuts with the tufts of hair on his head… he’s probably embarrassed to go see the neighbor dogs for a week after you groom him!”

“He LOVES going to the groomer! He gets to see his pals and literally has a spa day! I wish I could go to a spa as often as he does!” Again…trying to change the subject…if I can keep him focused on Charlie’s grooming, Marty may forget about the double food charge!

“And that’s another thing…he’s a TEN-pound dog! How come it costs so much to bathe him? Hell…I could stick him in the tub and wash him for free in about 15-minutes.”

Oh GEEZE! Now we were going to have the groomer conversation again. Marty doesn’t understand why it costs as much to take Charlie in as it did for our 95-pound poodle, Whitman.

“Marty…he doesn’t just get a bath! He gets a facial, a mud-pack, a pedicure, and his hygienic clipping. She even trims his ear hairs and around his mouth.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this,” Marty sighed. “But what exactly is a ‘hygienic clipping?’ And why does he need one? He’s a white dog with silky hair. What’s unhygienic about that?

“You just answered yourself, Marty! He’s a WHITE dog! When he gets dirty, it SHOWS! And that hygienic clip is around his bottom. She clips his hair there very short so when he does his ‘business,’ nothing sticks to him.”

At that point, my sweet husband began to surrender. I saw it in his eyes that he didn’t want to discuss Charlie’s bathroom habits. Victory was within my reach!

“FINE, Julia…if you’re happy, then I’m happy. Groom him all you want. Groom Copper if you want to! But I still think that ordering another 50 cans of dog and cat food because they didn’t clean their bowls is ridiculous!”

“Oh, Marty, don’t be silly! You can’t groom a cat! At least not at a dog groomer! She would be a nervous wreck around all those dogs! And don’t worry…I’ll donate the paté food to a shelter. It won’t go to waste.”

“Great,” he said as he turned to leave the room. “And no…please DON’T take the cat to Charlie’s groomer…if it makes her nervous, I don’t want to have to start paying for a cat psychologist! And you probably have one on speed dial!”

I laughed at that and hugged him.

“You’re the BEST, darling! I love you!”

He hugged me back and told me he loved me, too. After he left the room I scurried to my phone and changed the name on my phone from “Kitty Therapy” to “Cat Doc.” Every marriage needs a little mystery to keep it zesty.

I’m just saying…

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