Cross-posted from Dreamwidth.
How many/what kind of pets do you have? + How old are they?
We have three!
- Two pomeranian dogs, who are brothers (same parents) but from different litters. One is a 17-year old red pomeranian who is the most cat-like dog I have ever met. His younger brother is a 15-year old red pomeranian who still thinks he's a puppy.
- One domestic medium hair cat (I know, I know, but she's definitely neither a short hair or a long hair cat) who is around 4.5 years old and the most dog-like cat I have ever met.
Younger pomma on the left, his older brother on the right.
The most regal of dogcats.
Being an incomplete list of names:
- Milo, the 17-year old pomma, is also Emperor Milo/the Emperor and Annoying Pom (Cy's nickname for him on her tumblr). Also That Asshole, Grumpyface, and other similar variations. Also, Bleh.
- Teddy, his 15-year old brother, is also Mr. Kun/the Kun and Wibble Pom on Cy's tumblr. Also Mr. Potato Man (he is like a giant sack of potatoes whenever we lift him onto the bed or couch), Sookypants, Sookyboy, and other variations. And Nart.
- Temmie, our cat, is also Princess Pot/the Princess, and Princess Cat on Cy's tumblr. Also Tem, Tempot, Fire & Wind, Princess Pantaloons, Bread, Murderbread, and Chicken Legs. Also, Doot Noot.
How did you get your pets?
Milo and Teddy have been with Cy since she was a teen; her mother bought them when they were still puppies. When Cy moved out at eighteen, her mother insisted she take one of the pommas; Cy took Teddy, and took Milo as soon as she could handle renting with two dogs. It's been very difficult for Cy finding a place to rent that would accept a single woman and her two pets; I think it's been easier since I moved in with Cy, since we were more the acceptable stable "couple with two pets" kind of arrangement.
We got Temmie in 2016. I've wanted a cat since I moved to Australia -- whenever Cy asked me if I wanted anything special from the grocery I'd often reply "a kitten" -- but our situation has been so unstable and difficult, we couldn't really justify getting a cat and making our living situation even more precarious. When 2016 started Cy was on Centrelink and I was working just on art, and we were barely scraping by -- but I said, you know what, let's just take a leap of faith and adopt a cat. I looked on PetRescue for medium-/long-haired cats that did well with dogs and spent a few days making calls. I narrowed my shortlist down to two choices: a beautiful Russian Blue mix called Gigi who was about 6 months old, and a domestic medium-hair cat named Penny who made my list because 1) her foster carer lived twenty minutes away, and 2) her description said she was a cheeky thing who cheerfully bullied the foster carer's dog (haha).
We met Penny first and she was wonderful. But I had my heart set on Gigi, so the following day Cy drove us out (a total of three hours, because she is a champion) to meet Gigi. Gigi was very beautiful and meek, but on the drive back Cy persuaded me that Penny would be a better choice. And she was absolutely right. I called Penny's rescue organisation on our drive back home and we had the paperwork sorted by that afternoon -- even on a weekend! We had Penny -- whom we renamed Temmie -- in our home the same day. It all just fell beautifully into place, and Temmie has been perfect in every way.
Was it love at first sight?
For me and the pommas? Definitely not, haha! I was scared of dogs before I met them, and the first impression didn't help. The pommas haven't been socialised to be friendly, so my first time visiting Cy, Teddy spent his time hiding in the bathroom and Milo made himself as grumpy and obtrusive as possible. He'd lie down in the middle of the corridor and snarl at me and I'd run away.
Once I moved in with Cy, though, the pommas quickly learned that I was part of the family. Teddy was very happy to have another mommy who would pet and spoil him whenever he liked. Milo, though... He's the kind of dog who is absolutely devoted to his One True Mommy, and he was very displeased that I was taking his place in Cy's bed (since before, he slept on the pillow next to Cy). It took much longer getting him to trust me. These days he does consider me his owner also, but I'm the one who gets sat on and pestered about food and basically run ragged by his imperial whims. He will, however, insist that I be wherever he is, so when I stay up late working or gaming he will come to me and huff at me until I let myself be herded to bed.
With Temmie, I think for Cy it was definitely love at first sight. Temmie sauntered into the room where Cy and I were waiting to meet her, and the first thing she did was rub herself against Cy's leg with some friendly mrrrrs. :D :D :D I think at that time I was trying not to fall in love with her because I still wanted to visit Gigi. But Cy definitely fell in love with Temmie's personality from the start, and she was right, because as soon as Temmie arrived at our house I was absolutely in love.
Two years on, Cy is still very smug that her instincts about Temmie were correct. She gets to be smug. Temmie is perfect.
What makes your pet one of a kind?
Milo: He is the most imperious pet I have ever met, which is saying a lot considering he's a dog and his Imperial Majesty's demands outdo all of the cats I've ever had. If you look at him wrong, he'll start growling at you. But when it comes to Cy, everything is different; Cy can do anything to him and he will let her have her way without any protest. It is actually very beautiful to see, this precious trust he has for her. To Milo, as long as Cy is there, everything is fine.
Teddy: He's the most needy, wubby velcro-pom, but at the same time he's very eager to please me and Cy and super protective of us. Whenever new people enter the office, it's Teddy who barks at them. Much fierce, very dog. He's also incredibly empathetic; whenever I'm crying or sad, Teddy will be there, wriggling his way into my arms for a cuddle. His idea of cheering me up is either cuddling in my lap or flopping onto the floor to show me his fluffy tummy. I remember one night when I was newly arrived in Australia; it was around 2am and I was sitting on the living room floor crying, because Cy and I had been fighting. Teddy hopped down from the bed, waddled his way from the bedroom to the living room, and insistently shoved his snout under my elbow until I gave in to the cuddle.
Temmie: Oh goodness, where do I start... She has a lot of very funny habits but the most exceptional thing about her is her absolute sincerity. I don't really think "earnest" is an attribute that's often ascribed to cats, but Temmie is 100% earnest about everything she does, whether it's drinking water from her jar, kneading and suckling on my shoulder, or flopping onto her tummy to try and entice her brothers to play with her. She is the antithesis of indifference. She's just so intense and persistent and sincere about interacting with her family, even her brothers who want nothing to do with her. This is a cat who feels very strongly about everything, does not give up, and wholeheartedly believes she will persuade you to her way of thinking eventually.
What is your absolute favorite thing about your pets?
They are ridiculous, funny, intelligent, and incredibly devoted to us. They all have their own strange and silly habits and their own strange and silly ways of showing their love, and I always feel so fortunate that we have them in our lives. (Except, of course, when I am cleaning their messes, or staying up until 3am to wait for my escape artist cat to come home.)
They have also expanded our vocabulary. We now have words for Temmie's midnight gurung-gurung and Teddy's inevitable sooksooking. It's great.
What's the funniest thing your pets have ever done?
Milo: I wasn't around for this, but it is a story we enjoy telling a lot. When Milo was much younger and still living with Cy's whole family, Cy's younger brother really loved to tease him. Milo then was very much like Milo now: irritable, quick to anger, and extremely fussy. Cy's brother was leaning over him teasing him, and-- well-- I guess Milo had had enough: he made a quick snap at Cy's brother and ended up biting his penis. Not hard enough to draw blood, I don't think, but still.
I'm told the teasing significantly decreased after that incident.
Teddy: This is kind of a recent thing -- Cy and I took our whole family to a cottage in Moorooduc for the weekend, so we could have a nice mini-holiday and also do our engagement photoshoot (with all the pets!). We had the pommas in the back seat and Temmie in her carrier with them. Normally Temmie is quite happy to travel, but this time she had the worst trip ever because Teddy had somehow decided that her carrier would be a great place to sit on and so he spent the entire drive (over two hours, maybe closer to three since we had to stop for errands on the way) sitting on her head. With the biggest smile on his doofy face.
As if that wasn't bad enough, Teddy is a restless pomma and has to rearrange himself and scruffle around and make a proper nest for his butt approximately every 1.5 minutes. Temmie's carrier is sturdy but it wasn't made to support 8 kilos of pomeranian, so Temmie had a very uncomfortable time and whenever Teddy shifted she would wail in the most upset, complaining fashion.
When we got to the cottage, Temmie spent a couple of hours being grumpy in the bedroom, and for the rest of the weekend, whenever she saw Teddy she would launch herself at him, hissing, and punch him on the nose. Teddy is normally her favourite brother, she always tries to cuddle up to him. But not that weekend, she was clearly bearing a grudge and Teddy was just bewildered by her fury. (Actually, the first night Teddy had a bit of a sad because sister hated him and brother was growling at him and nobody loved him, so he was clearly sulking, which was both hilarious and endearing. We eventually let him sleep on the bed with us to make up for it.)
On the drive back, we made sure Temmie's carrier was in the front seat. I sat in the back cuddling Teddy, who was all too happy to sit on me.
Temmie: Our princess has a lot of funny habits -- she will try and cuddle up to the pommas whenever she can, so she takes advantage of sleeping Milo and then runs away as soon as he wakes up; she thinks she's a dog so she wants all the dog things and steals her brothers' food even when her own bowl is full; she drinks out of my paint water jars and enthusiastically sits on all my art; she tries to suckle on my left shoulder (but I have to be wearing the right dressing gown) and clings to me like a koala. But my favourite one thing she did was with Teddy's fur. We had just bathed Teddy and I spent around an hour blowdrying and brushing his fur, so I had accumulated a huge pile of pomma fluff on the floor.
As soon as Temmie saw it she thought it was the best thing ever. She started out by rubbing her face against the fluffballs, but then she flopped face-first onto the fur and started rolling around in it, happy as anything. And then she put her arms all over this massive pile of pomeranian fur and started grooming it, as if it were her very own brother-puppy. It was the sweetest and most adorable thing.
What's the naughtiest thing your pet has ever done?
Milo: It's actually hard to say for Milo, because while he's regularly a jerk and an asshole, he-- Okay, wait, no, I just remembered (sparked by just now getting up to open the back door for Teddy).
This was back when we were moving from Gippsland to Mornington. It was the day before we were to hand over our keys, and me, Cy, and S had worked the whole day cleaning the house. I was working in the kitchen, which looked out onto the backyard; since the floors had already been vacuumed and steam-cleaned, I'd put both pommas out into the massive backyard so their fur wouldn't complicate things. I had the glass back door open, to let the air in, but the screen door closed, to keep the pommas out.
I remember looking over my shoulder to see Milo at the back door, pawing at the screen to try and come in. Oh well, I remember thinking. I'll be done soon and then I can go play with the pommas. I turned back to wiping the pantry clean.
A few minutes later, I felt Milo nosing at my hand. "How did you get in?" I asked him.
And then my eyes went to the HUGE HOLE HE HAD SOMEHOW MADE IN THE SCREEN DOOR.
Years later I'm still alsdhaslkdaf about it. How? How? He is a 7-kilo dog and arthritic. And yet.
Teddy: The first Easter I spent in Australia, Cy did an Easter hunt for me, with adorable clues and lovely little gifts at every clue: nail polish, makeup, and of course chocolate. The prize at the very end was a large Lindt chocolate bunny, which I found so delightful I kept it on my desk so I could see it while I was on my computer. My desk at the time was a very low coffee table, since we couldn't get me a proper desk yet; I didn't mind, since I'm usually quite happy to sit on the floor.
I came home from work one day to find shredded gold foil all over the floor in front of the door. Some of the gold foil had still kept its shape, and I recognised my beautiful chocolate bunny's ears. Not a scrap of chocolate remained.
I immediately hunted for Teddy (Milo hates sweets) who was hiding in the bathroom in full knowledge of the judgment that was to come. And then I punted Teddy into the backyard (in case the chocolate gave him indigestion) and called Cy to ask her about vet stuff (in case the chocolate made Teddy sicker than just that, because it's one of those "never ever give this to your dog" things).
Teddy, it turned out, was fine. But I am still very sad about not getting to eat my cute chocolate bunny.
Temmie: This is a thing that happened while Cy and I were away from home and Cy's sister S was pet-sitting for us. Temmie is a strictly inside cat, but she is an escape artist; she's very good at picking just the right moment when you're distracted to zoom out the door, and most times she's way too fast for anyone to react. (I have caught her between my leg and the door a few times, but she just squeezes through and bounds away.)
We'd warned S about this but I guess she underestimated Temmie, because the cats S lives with are a lot less intense than Temmie is. S was in her nighty/undies (she likes chilling like that when she's alone in the house) and cleaning (because she likes cleaning, idk ok) and she had just finished a load of laundry, so she went out to the backyard to hang the clothes. She left the laundry basket to block the door because surely that would deter Temmie from trying to make a run for it.
Hah. Temmie saw her chance and bounded through the door; she was past the back fence and into the decorative marsh before S could say "Temmie! No!" --I should note, our back fence is more grill-like than actual fence-like, due to council regulations on the way our unit's complex was to be built; Temmie can easily fit between the bars. Directly behind our house is a man-made marsh, because /shrug emoji. Temmie is in love with this marsh. Thankfully (for Temmie and for S) it is not a very wet marsh.
Anyway, as soon as Temmie went off, my poor sister-in-law panicked because she had lost our cat. She made a split-second decision. Fueled by adrenaline, she vaulted our fence and chased after our wayward cat -- barefoot, in her nighty, and trying very hard to see in the cold dark. (This was an evening in June, which is Australian winter. S is a brave woman.)
S found Temmie throwing herself against the glass of a neighbour's back door, yowling and making a ruckus. The owner of the house, a very nice old lady, was drawn by the commotion and asked S -- who was standing just outside her backyard, panting, very cold, and not in a state of respectable dress -- if this was her cat. Yes, it was indeed. So the old lady opened the door, presumably to grab Temmie--
--who immediately launched herself at the neighbour's cat, with full intent to murder the poor thing.
Our neighbour managed to grab Temmie after a furious struggle, and then -- blood running down her arms, because our cat is a hell child who has no respect for anyone, not even poor old ladies who just happened to have a cat -- told S she'd hand Temmie over at the front door. So S (who was, I think, too horrified/embarrassed/cold to offer alternative solutions) had to trudge all the way through the decorative marsh and the back of our building complex to our neighbour's front door. (I wish we knew which neighbour it was, because we really wanted to send her apology cake, but S said she didn't remember, which is understandable.)
So, having secured Temmie (who was very unhappy about being caught) S now had to figure out how to get back inside the house. The front door was locked. Vaulting the back fence was out of the question, especially holding a struggling cat, and S didn't want to risk Temmie escaping again. She needed a way to keep Temmie in one place, one she couldn't escape from but which would also make retrieval doable.
Solution: stick Temmie in the bin. Which happened to contain a fair bit of cat litter, since S had cleaned Temmie's litterbox just that afternoon.
So S dropped our wailing, complaining, horrible cat daughter into our bin to get reacquainted with her litter, wheeled our bin out to the back of our fence, stood on the bin to get over the fence, and then retrieved Temmie from the bin through the fence's bars. And then finally S carried Temmie back inside, turned the heater up really high, and took a shower to warm up her poor half-frozen feet.
S told us that after her shower Temmie came up to her, purring and rubbing herself against S and as pleased as anything: "that was fun! Let's do it again!" -- and certainly, whenever S comes over Temmie is delighted to see her. She is the fun auntie now, you see.
Please tell your pet I love them, because it's true.
I will! Milo warily accepts your pats, Teddy hopes you have treats for him, and Temmie rubs herself against your legs. Please admire the beautiful princess tail.
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