"Running Commentary"
Power Struggles
I once owned two cats.
Now, I have two puppies.
The contrast is startling – polar opposites.
Never in my craziest dreams could I have known how easy I had it with my cats. Who knew? Two hyperactive puppies are all it took to bring me to an awareness that the cushy life I once knew? It’s over! Kapoot! Fini! My life is different now and will never be the same.
Not in a bad way – just entirely different.
Cats act as if they parachuted down to Earth in golden chariots, direct descendants of feline deities. The gift of gods to mankind. The very embodiment of royalty, cats suffer your existence. Your sole purpose in life is to feed them in the morning and occasionally refill their water dish – that’s it.
Cats rule! However, cat owners are OK with that because cats are basically self-sufficient. They sleep 24/7 and only get grouchy when anyone disturbs their peaceful slumber.
Unlike puppy dogs, cats don’t have to go outside to do their business, and thanks to plastic bags, the daily cleanup of the litter box isn’t a big deal. Nothing to it! If you let the cats sleep, they’ll occasionally they’ll brush up against your leg as if to say, “You’re OK. You can stay.”
There are no power struggles with cats.
Dogs are different. Boy, and how!
In my house, the day begins with a ritualistic power struggle. Here’s a common theme – I stay up and go to bed late. I’m tired. I need my rest and beauty sleep.
Rocky and Boulder McGraw see things differently. When they gotta pee, they gotta pee – and we ain’t got no litter box. My sleep patterns aren’t their problem.
It starts around 5:00 a.m. I swear the boys can count. I have several antique clocks that bong and chime on the hour. When the clocks interrupt the quietude of morning and strike five – bong, bong, bong, bong, bong – all hell breaks loose.
Rocky sleeps in a locked crate overnight in the study. Boulder sleeps nearby in a cushy window seat with free access to saunter down to my bedroom each morning to see if I’m awake.
Problem is, when Boulder leaves the study, little bro’ Rocky goes nuts! He barks incessantly with a high-pitched yip and yap that could almost shatter a crystal goblet. Impossible to ignore. Heaven knows I’ve tried. Rocky’s message is unmistakable: “Get me OUTTA here. I gotta GO.”
Rocky has a bladder the size of a small thimble.
I’ve learned from experience to respect that.
Groggy, dazed and confused, I let Rocky out of his jailcell, but with a stern admonition to both children: “It’s too dang early to get up! Do your business, but then you’re back to bed.”
With the clamor and excitement of a small herd of African wildebeests, we all head to the back of the house tp the sliding glass door. Sometimes I worry they’ll run through it – before it’s open. Rocky practically levitates as if he has a built-in pogo stick. He’s more up than down.
Out in the backyard? Such joy! Such relief!
At this hour, I find it hard to share their delight.
Having fertilized the back yard, the boys reluctantly trundle back to the study. Rocky gets padlocked again … Boulder jumps up on his window seat, unencumbered because he’s outgrown the restrictions of a crate. Rocky hasn’t earned that kind of freedom yet. When he’s released from prison, he’s dangerous. It behooves me to keep important papers out of reach.
This morning’s routine was different. The power struggle elevated to a new level of chaos. Rocky woke up at the ungodly hour of 4:00. Aware of the consequences of ignoring him, three wildebeests headed out to the backyard. But when back in his crate, Rocky ignored my admonition to sleep. He started yapping and whining almost immediately.
He didn’t have to go – he just wanted out of jail.
It was time to remind Rocky who is the real alpha dog in our household – and it’s not his big brother. I pulled him out of his crate and gave him two good swats on his little caboose. “It’s NOT time to get up. STOP BARKING! Go back to sleep.”
And the “bottom line” this morning? Not a peep out of the boys until 5:30 – the regular and accepted time for us all to rise ‘n shine for breakfast. Whew! VICTORY!
A small step for man; a giant leap for Rocky.
He’s learning. As Rocky grows, the power struggles will lessen. He’s already past the worst puppy issue – house training. Thank God for that. Everything in its own time.
Truly, I can’t help but laugh, remembering very similar power struggles with my own children some 40 years ago. They learned. Rocky will as well.
This morning, the bedsheets never feeling so warm and inviting. Aaaah, peaceful slumber. Without the incessant yapping of a small puppy.
I love my boys. Love ‘em to death. And yet … and yet …
Around 4:00 a.m., I miss my cats.
Note: One city celebration ends, another is on the horizon. On September 25th Concordia will host a huge airshow at Blosser Municipal Airport, dedicating the new runway. Airplane aerobatics, exhibits and food. Free admission. Fun for the entire family.