Pet Barometers

Pets really are the barometers for your emotional life.

When I was at my lowest, depressed and anxious and crying all the time, my animals moped around the house, acting like the world was ending. In their defense - and mine - we were all grieving over the loss of Percy, at least partially. Tess and Puckett missed their friend, banishing themselves to a corner of the room to sleep and lie around. Puckett was the least active, as I still occasionally made Tess go out for a walk on nice days. We didn't have the same pep and joy in our walks though. I walked because it was necessary. Tess sniffed and peed on trees and bushes, but her heart didn't seem in it. Puckett spent hours curled up in the same spot next to the heater, emerging only to use the box and eat, and even eating seemed like a chore for her.

It wasn't until I had the wild hair to adopt a puppy and kitten that sort of pepped everyone up, mostly because they had no choice. Joy bounced around Tess constantly, trying to get her to play. She was like a pogo stick: "Pat attention to me! Pay attention to me! Pay attention to me!" And what could poor Tess do, other than sigh in resignation and play with her, knowing that otherwise Joy would never leave her alone?

And Spencer, well, Spencer just adds all kinds of life. Willow was never a fan of Percy's and I don't think she was too heartbroken over his death. She did, however, pick up on the mood of everyone else in the house and spent most of her days sleeping, like Puckett. She was more inclined to eat and sack out on the bed with me, because Willow is clingy and not an isolator. Puckett's isolating worried me a bit. She's normally a confident, happy, social cat.

Here came Spencer, and suddenly Puckett is acting like a kitten again. Even Willow has started playing with him if he's not too pushy and insistent. The three of them chase each other through the house, they roll across the floor sounding like they're killing each other in play fight, and suddenly at night I have three cats on the bed instead of just one. Puckett nestles right up beside me by the pillows, Willow sleeps at the foot of the bed, and Spencer sacks out on my legs. He eventually goes downstairs or under the bed (or joins Joy in her kennel or Tess on her dog bed), but at the beginning of the night everyone is all huddled together

I am no longer in deep depression and the animals aren't either. And my new relationship is so different from the last one, I don't think any of us know how to navigate it besides Joy and Spencer.

We're all happy and it's weird.

I hate to say that, really. Have I been so jaded and treated badly that I no longer recognize what being happy or feeling joy is?

Maybe that's why I named the puppy "Joy" though "Jaws" really seems to suit her better. If she was bigger I'd call her the Meg. But I digress.

My therapist is having a field day with me because I told her a few months ago that I was done dating. I'm not putting in the work anymore, and I have no energy for the endless online surfing, meeting for coffee, navigating whether we like each other, and going out on actual dates. The thought of going back online exhausted me, and I kept coming up with reasons not to. I still wanted a relationship, but if I was going down that road again he would basically have to show up on my doorstep, because I'm not looking anymore. Also my sex drive was in the toilet anyway, so I wasn't really motivated to go out looking for someone.

A month ago, he actually did show up on my doorstep. I was working in my front garden, pulling weeds and getting the bed ready for planting. This car rolled up, a guy got out, and at first I thought he was lost and asking for directions when he walked up to me. Instead he told me he'd seen me walking my dogs in the neighborhood because he works just down the street, and then I did remember exchanging a few words with him a couple of times in the early mornings when I walked. He asked me to dinner, and it took me a second. I almost said no, but changed my mind and suggested we meet for coffee instead. See how we like each other.

Turns out we like each other a lot. And the animals like him too. He even likes the cats. And I like his dog (those who remember the last one's dog will probably find that humorous) and his dog likes me. And the dogs all like each other. We took them for a walk the other day, all three of them, and Tess came out of her shell like she hasn't in a couple years. She ran and played and there was a bit of tension when she made sure that the new dog understood she is alpha, but after that everyone was friends. Joy will get along with anyone as long as they don't try to eat her. She just wants to play. Tess was a puppy again. And as far as her personality, the new dog is sweet and bouncy, energetic but disciplined. She actually listens. And God love her she stays off the furniture. Mostly.

I don't really have a physical type when it comes to men, but if I did, he's it. Short and cute but built like a little Jason Statham. I like them short. I've never been one of those women who refuses to date a guy under six feet tall. I'm more like please be under five feet ten!

And he's so nice. It's weird. I'm used to getting yelled at for the smallest, stupidest little things (like not texting first in the morning), or remaining friends with the Cowboy, or heaven forbid allowing the Cowboy to do stuff to my house like he has been for years, and this guy is just like "Cool." About everything. Nothing fazes him. The other night he turned to me and said "I like you. You make me happy." And I kept waiting for the "But" like "But I feel like I'm doing more work in this relationship than you are." Nope, he stopped talking after he said I made him happy and kissed my nose.

If Tess feels like a puppy again, I'm pretty sure I feel like a teenager again. We kind of make other people sick. We're that couple making out on the sidewalk, or holding hands in Walmart of all places, or gazing into each others' eyes at the wine bar, and I have never been into PDA's. Will it last? I don't know. I hope so. He says he plans to stick around for a while, if I let him. He's pretty easy to be around. He doesn't get mad easily, he's clean, he likes things neat, he doesn't drink. I'm a skeptic by nature, but he seems to be just what the doctor ordered. I have no complaints so far.

Cats and books! Happiness abound.