Pepper liked to jump. And, unlike my other cats, Pepper jumped with grace and beauty—as well as a good deal of planning. My fat yellow Tom, Lothario, an advocate of leaping before looking, often missed his target completely or skidded across the side of a low table.
I brush my dog's teeth everyday and she's actually come to enjoy it. True, it might have something to do with the peanutbutter-flavored toothpaste, but regardless she opens her mouth whenever she sees me reach for her toothbrush. For many years, dental hygiene for pets was a matter of snickers. If my friends caught me brushing my dog's or cats' teeth ten years ago, they'd laugh into their hands. Now, they all have toothbrushes for their own pets and most of them bring Fido or Fluffy in for more professional cleaning once or twice a year.
It was a dark and stormy night—one of those early autumn thunderstorms that rattles the eaves and deposits a hundred stray branches in my yard. A wet and noisy night that sends cats scurrying to the basement to hide under the pool table or to form shaky little cat-lumps under the bed-comforter. Thunderstorms were always Lady's great fear—the combination of thunderous booms with the occasional light show sent shivers through her little Cockerspaniel heart. As for myself, I always worry that the lawn furniture will end up in the street and usually awake to find that one or two terracotta pots didn't survive the night.
I have to admit that after the endless pet food recalls of 2007, any recall puts me on edge. The recent salmonella recalls aren't as frightening (or widespread) as the melamine-contamination recalls six years ago (Has it really been that long?) but they are still a cause for concern. Two of my favorite organic pet food manufacturers are included in the recall, so I've cracked out my pet food cookbooks and recipe cards (once again.)
Some people look to the groundhog to signal the start of Spring. Others check for the first crocus buds and daffodil heads. As for me, I know that it is officially Spring when the Mole arrives. The Mole has been a visitor (and the bane of my gardening existence) for many years. Neighborhood dogs, feral cats, and even Ryder, our neighbor's mighty tabby, have all conspired to bring him down. But, the Mole survives year after year. He's a wily creature—apparently immune to the mole-busting bulbs sold at Lowe's. And, even though my lavender will eventually look like a very small and determined train plowed through it, I can't bring myself to employ any harsher methods against the infamous Mole.
Your pet is a hunter. Mine too. It’s hard to believe, I know, looking at my pet cat, Tig, lying on a pile of cushions watching a fly land on the wall with disinterest. Tig’s only experience with chasing things extends to laser pointers and remote control mice—and admittedly she’s a little afraid of the remote control mouse. Although she has been known to swat at my legs from her hidden nook under the stairs, my cat has no real hunting experience. But, it is there. Cats and dogs, even the most pampered, bow-wearing of the lot, are carnivores. They are related to the wildest of wolves and the fiercest of lions, although I think Tig’s lineage must be very distant. And, while canned food and its dry equivalent do provide all the vitamins and minerals your pet requires to be healthy and strong, they may not provide him with all the excitement their carnivorous self craves. You could survive solely on Protein bars and tofu, but what about the cheeseburgers, the candy bars, and the thick chocolate milkshakes? Sure, we could definitely live without them, but would you really want to live on cereal and the occasional can of something mushy, but nutritious? Maybe you cat or dog feels the same way!