Youths

As if adopting a new puppy wasn't enough, I went and did something.

I think I need my head examined.

Or else I've just given up on all my dreams and decided to make myself a full time steward of animals (well, and plants, but that doesn't happen until spring).

I blame Joy. Completely. It's all her fault. I take no responsibility for my actions. I also blame the Dog and Cat Shelter. They know a sucker when they see one, and they somehow manage to find those suckers even when the suckers don't come to them.

They will find you.

The other night at puppy class, Joy was doing her exercises and suddenly this little black head with two big green eyes popped up from one of the cages at the back of the Petco store. This small black kitten fixed its eyes on Joy and watched her with such intent while Joy worked her class, he seemed almost mesmerized. Joy finally noticed him too and was equally interested. They sat and stared at each other.

I almost saw heart bubbles popping between them.

I may not have thought much about it, had the little beast not stuck his tiny paws through the holes of his cage and waved them at us. He was all black with green eyes.

And I thought, Percy 2.0.

Of course I had to check him out. I love dogs, but cats are a different story with me. I can walk through the kennels at the animal shelter, and while I will pet a few noses and sympathize with the plight of homeless dogs, I can walk away. Shepherds are my Kryptonite, but even them, if they seem like they won't fit in with my life, I can walk away. Mewing, homeless, pathetic looking cats just break my heart. This is why I don't go into the cat room at the Dog and Cat Shelter anymore. That's how I ended up with Puckett and Willow.

It was the perfect storm. The kitten, being all black with green eyes, filled two criteria already, and when I checked his card to see if he was male or female (hoping he was a female because I don't need any more girls in my house), I groaned. He was male. Four months old, neutered already, all his shots, ready to go home.

I mean, he wouldn't cost me a dime except for the adoption fee which wasn't very much. And I already had all the food and toys and treats and bowls and litter necessary for a cat his size.

So that week we acquired Spencer, the new little brother no one but Joy wanted.

It actually didn't go as badly as I thought it might. Introducing a new cat to two others is always tricky. I didn't worry too much about Puckett. She doesn't care as long as everyone understands and accepts that she is queen. Willow I was a bit more worried about. She's gone through bullying from Percy and being picked on by Joy. I was worried maybe I'd pushed her too far. But both girls hissed and swatted a few times upon meeting Spencer. They watched him as long as he kept his distance, but they didn't seem bothered. At first he spent most days in the guest room while I was at work, and at night when I was asleep. He couldn't be unsupervised. He tried to eat my yarn, climb on the wine rack, and Joy (who had just been spayed and needed to stay inside on a velvet cushion) just could not seem to sit still around him. She followed him around and rolled him across the floor with her nose. This kitten is completely fearless, just like Percy was. Dogs don't bother him. The vacuum cleaner doesn't bother him. Even Puckett doesn't intimidate him, though he has learned to keep his distance.

So while there was some growling and swatting and hissing, nothing too dramatic. He and Puckett have become friends. They play together just like she and Percy used to. He follows Willow around like she is the most fascinating creature in the world and tries to engage her in play. That ticks her off and she hisses and jumps on the cat tree. I think if Spencer wasn't so pushy, Willow might eventually warm up to play with him. He was a bit apprehensive about Joy at first since she was so pushy, but now they've become good friends and play together every night. Joy chases Spencer who chases Willow who throws a fit and chaos ensues. Meanwhile Puckett and Tess watch them with the look I usually reserve for twenty-year-olds.

To quote Schmidt from The New Girl, "Youths!"

Grief and disappointment will do strange things to a person. For eight months it was four old ladies sitting around feeling sorry for themselves. Well, three old ladies, and Willow, who I guess is middle-aged. Maybe I'm middle-aged too. Who knows at this point. Then we got Joy, and then we got Spencer. Boy do they spice up life. They are so full of life and energy and joy (Joy!) they kind of remind me what that used to be like.

It's too soon to tell if this was the biggest mistake of my life. Spencer is now five months old, but still a baby by kitty standards. I hope when he grows up he doesn't take everyone out. And Joy is a teenager by dog standards, and most nights I feel like I'm fighting with my teenage daughter. I can almost see her stomping her feet and screaming "You're ruining my life!" I know this too shall pass, and when she hits 18 months she'll be as good a dog as Tess. She has the temperament. I don't think cats go through bratty teenage phases, but males do go through bossy britches phases, and as much as I loved Percy he was a nasty little bully. I hope Spencer won't take on that personality trait. He's already getting bolder, and his new thing lately is stealing my makeup brushes and knocking his food bowls over so he can play with the kibble.

It's easy forget as one ages the utter joy and carefree wonderment of youth. And it's easy to be contemptuous of that youth. Contrary to what the kids think, it isn't jealousy that drives older people and animals to despise them. Jealousy? Really? Go through all that again on purpose? Not on your life. No, it's arrogance. Sure, we all used to act that way when we were that age, but it's easy to forget as the wisdom of age takes over. It's easy to get annoyed, and think, "Jesus, why don't you use your brain, think a little, don't act so stupid!"

But sometimes I look at Joy and Spencer and I just have to smile. They are so cute. They are two balls bouncing through life with exuberance. They haven't had a chance to develop idiosyncrasies or anxieties. They haven't yet learned that some may not like them or judge them or, Heaven forbid, would hurt them given the chance (Spencer is a black cat after all). They are silly and irrational, but they are innocent, and their innocence makes them happy.

If youth has no other use, it at least has the joy of innocence and the excitement of new discoveries. And I definitely miss that sometimes.

And here he is, the new little beast. Spencer was named during a Criminal Minds marathon. I named him for Dr. Spencer Reid.