Several months ago, Munchkin and I were having a mother-son date and, needing to kill some time, wandered into a dog-grooming business. We stood off to the side and watched the employees and the dogs for a while. Munchkin did his quiet glowing thing that means he’s having an awesome time but isn’t going to actually express it. Two days later, he announced his firm desire for a dog.
Fortunately, ‘Stache and I had discussed this before, so I had an answer ready. “Munchkin,” I said, “Here’s the thing. Before we get you a dog, Mama and Daddy need to know that you can be responsible enough to take care of one.” And then inspiration struck. “You could show us,” I suggested, “by taking care of the cats. You can feed them in the morning and scoop their cat box.”
Munchkin promptly agreed. And, since the beginning of November, he has fed and scooped very nearly every morning with a cheerful attitude and a willing heart. Which is, frankly a great deal more than could be said of either me or ‘Stache. However he has often needed to be reminded, which is a fairly key factor, from the parental evaluation perspective. Also, since that initial conversation, ‘Stache and I added an extremely high-spirited three-year old girl to our household and incidentally decided that three pets and three children and two parents would about do for the present.
This evening over his birthday dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and English peas, Munchkin, in true labor boss fashion, laid down his terms and announced a strike. “Mama,” he said with deliberation and precision, “I will feed the cats for one more day. And then – I will say, ‘I want a dog!’”
It was my unfortunate task to break the news that, given the size of our house and our yard, we could not have more than three pets. I pointed out that Pippin, our “male” cat likes to go on adventures and maybe sometime Pippin might find a family that he liked better and stay with them instead. Also, it was likely that eventually we would move to a bigger house and that at that time, we could probably get a dog. I assured him that Daddy and I did want him to have a dog, but that this was just not a good time.
Immediately dismissing these reassurances, Munchkin launched into a new plan. “We – we could take down the cages and we puts the cats in them and then we takes them back to the kitty house [animal shelter]. But we keeps Sofie and then – then we have two pets – “ he counted on his fingers, “ – we have Sofie and we have my puppy dog.” He gave a firm nod, content with his awesome plan and succinct summary.
It was then my even more unfortunate task to convince him that no, simply marking “return to sender” was not a viable means of ridding oneself of an unwanted pet. All while shushing ‘Stache, who stepped out to the hall to burst into laughter in peace, and forcing a serious expression on my own face as befitted the serious discussion at hand.
However, if there are any cat lovers out there who would like to own a beautiful short-hair male-but-neutered cat who’s had his shots, is good with kids and likes to play outside on occasion, I will make you a very good deal.
|This is my brother's dog, not Munchkin's future dog, but I couldn't not post it.|