Beech Tree News Network

I’m keeping my friends’ dog, Mollie, while they are on tour.  My friends are musicians, and Mollie usually goes on the road with them, but they are headed to Europe for a few weeks, so Mollie is staying with me until they return.

               Mollie is a wonderful little dog.  She is a rescue, fifteen years old and deaf.  She has the sweetest nature, a great snuggle buddy of a dog that you barely know is on the place.  I’ve tried to pay attention to her preferences, and I’ve turned the AC back a bit.  She pretty much stays right with me, but she likes to sleep up against Garey.

               Mollie has dealt with enough cats in her lifetime to view them as a mere afterthought.  This doesn’t sit well with Brother cat, who walks around with his hackles raised, swiping the air with a paw, spitting and hissing with his most intimidating glare.  Mollie just looks at him then walks off in search of something more interesting, Brother cat right on her heels.  His attitude spelled out in his stance.  “You look at me when I’m hissing at you!” he seems to be telling her.  Mollie jumps up onto the couch to sit by me.  Brother is left on the floor with his bad self.  Sister cat just sits back to see how all this will play out.  She’s more of a “Give me a reason,” feline.  Of course, Mollie won’t give either of them a reason.  They’ll figure it out eventually.  It’s early days.

               Animals put together in unfamiliar circumstances are like kids on a playground at the beginning of a school year.  They size one another up.  It takes time to learn what they can get by with, and it takes time to learn what they can reveal of themselves and who is trustworthy enough to have that information.

               Mollie learned right away that she had nothing to fear from Blackjack, our big, furry barn cat.  When I’m outside, Blackjack follows me around like a dog, meowing on some continuous loop, like a phonograph needle stuck in the groove of an old 45.  He has one mission and one mission only: to be petted…and he never gets enough.  He sees Mollie as another set of legs he can rub his back on, and she just stands there and lets him. 

               On Sunday, my daughter and son-in-law came to visit.  They brought their dogs, Mia the Boston Terrier, and Sirius Black the Husky-German Shepherd mix.  You know how cousins who haven’t seen each other for a while act when they get together.  It’s all chaotic one-upmanship.  That’s what it was like when Natalie’s and Scott’s dogs first met Brother and Sister.  Sister cat would jump Mia the minute she walked in the door, and Brother would stalk Sirius, slinking around like a lion on the prowl.  Inevitably, we’d have to separate somebody before the visit was over.

               On this Sunday visit, however, both cats raised their heads when they heard the dogs come in, then laid back down when they saw who was there in order to get back to the important business of napping. 

“Well look at that,” I said, “they’re growing.”

You know, all in all, I’m a pretty optimistic person, but when it comes to my view about peace on earth, I don’t think it’s ever going to happen, not on this earth, anyway.  I have reached this conclusion after having accidentally dropped a bite of chicken onto the floor and watched as two loving little dogs and two sweet little cats were ready to tear each other apart over it. 

The Bible promises that there will be a new Heaven and a new Earth, in which the Lion will lie down with the lamb.  That will be impressive, for sure, but the real litmus test for me will be to see Mia, Sirius, Brother and Sister all lie down beside each other, in a little row, each content with their position.