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Category Archives: get along like cats and dogs

what a nincompoop

19 Monday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

kittens

We are having a good time with our new kitten friends.  They bounce around the house like ping pong balls now that they are feeling better.  CowboyKitty has proven to have many virtuous qualities, pingponginess for example, but cleanliness is not one of them; his fur has looked a bit disheveled since the day we brought him home.  White fur on cats should be white, right?  Not beige, or taupe, or ecru?  In his defense, he was sick(er than we thought possible), so we cut him some slack on the whole hygiene idea.  And therefore, I was so happy to see him actually grooming himself one day, I took a picture of it.

I snapped this photo right before he ripped open the delicate site of his kitty vasectomy.

whoa up on the stiches, big fella

Hey!  I have a great idea!  Let’s go back to the vet!

Luckily(?), I already had a vet appointment for MiaKitty that very day so he could just tag along.  Who knew that for him, cleanliness would be next to vet-liness?

This little guy makes us laugh everyday with his kittenish antics, but his litterbox habits are another “area for improvement”, at least according to Mia and the rest of the feline population.  Training a kitten is the polar opposite experience from potty training a puppy — really, it could not be easier.  They seem to come out of the chute knowing just what to do as long as a litterbox is handy.  He actually uses the litterpan flawlessly, but then he neglects to cover up his business.  I thought this was Rule #1 in the Kitty Handbook.  Mia just goes in after him, shoots him a dirty look, and proceeds to cover it up.  Can a girl kitten mutter under her breath?  If she could, she would.

From my view, it is the feline equivalent of the guy leaving the toilet seat up.

Now, this morning?  He had poo on his head.  How in the hell does a cat get poo on his head?  They are the cleanest animals on earth, I muttered under my breath.  He didn’t mind his sponge bath too much though. (But, really, what guy does?)

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a tale of two kitties

07 Wednesday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

A Tale of Two Cities, Brett Favre, Charles Dickens, humane society, Jane Koenen Bretl, kittens

How does the story go?  It was the best of times, it was the worst of times?  At risk of Dickensian metaphorical hyperbole, the last couple weeks have had some ups and downs.  There was the loss of a beloved pet, but the adoption of two new ones.  There were the three trips to the vet when the cute little new pets became very sick, but nothing multiple medications given via syringe and squirted into the eyes twice a day couldn’t remedy.  There were the emails and calls about possible sightings of our lost pet, which raised our hopes but all of which turned out to be the wrong cat.  There was the shocking revelation that after ten weeks of hard, sweat-dripping, muscle-aching, don’t-fear-the-burn exercising at the gym with my nazi personal trainer, I officially lost one pound (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?) and my thighs are one inch bigger.  *THEN* there was the family health scare, thankfully with a happy ending, that put all the other problems into perspective.  (Because, finally, we find something that actually is one of the big problems in life.)

I’m still mad about the thighs thing though.

Gym drama aside, I am happy to share some good pet news for a change:   we have two new little kittens at our house.  They do not fill the hole in our hearts, but there is nothing like kitten silliness to cheer the soul.  They are, frankly, ridiculous.

This is Mia.

Mia

She is not the kitten I specifically went in to the humane society to find, but she turned out to be The One.  After 17 hours in the kitten room at the shelter, when the volunteer carries in The One, you just know.  She is very sweet and quiet and a bit shy.  She likes to curl up under my chin to go to sleep.  It makes housework difficult to complete.

This is Cowboy.

howdy cowboy

He is not the brightest star in the dark prairie sky, but he purrs like a hemi engine (very impressive to the automotive experts around here) and is an extremely playful and affectionate little guy.  I went to the humane society five times in two weeks to find just the right kitten; he is SO not what I went in specifically to find either, but he told me he wanted to come live with us, so what could I do?  Plus, those clever marketing geniuses at the shelter offered me two-kittens-for-the-price-of-one, so he was the bonus, BOGO kitten.  (Turns out, two kittens come with twice the diseases and parasites that they can quickly share!  What a deal!)

So, things are looking up.

1.  The kittens are rounding the corner towards good health, which means they are getting into more and more mischief every day.  (They were so well behaved when they were just laying there…)

2.  The outpouring of help and concern and kind words from the community in the search for our cat has warmed my heart.

3.  The scale at the gym clearly has something wrong with it.  The decades-long pain in my back is much better, my lungs can take deeper breaths, my clothes fit better and I have more stamina when I walk the dog.

4.  The biggest health problem my family now has to face is how sick we feel when watching Brett Favre on the Vikings.

Packer fans

And the extra inch on each thigh?  It just means I can hold both kittens on my lap at once instead of doing the dishes.

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goodbye kitty

06 Tuesday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood, Writing

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

cat, dog, Jane Koenen Bretl, pets

The last two weeks, I’ve looked out the window what feels like 500 times, waiting and watching for the cat to come home.

She went out at night, like she had 500 times before.  Most every day, for six years, she went outside for a while then came back, a few hours or a maybe a day later, her little round white face popping back up by the patio door, her mouth opening in near silent meows that couldn’t be heard through the glass.

One day last spring, she did not come back for a day and a half, and I was worried.  I walked along the woods behind our neighborhood, calling her and watching the bushes for a sign of a rustle.  Then, just like that, she came trotting out from the brush, her tail in a happy question mark, ready to be scooped up into my arms and carried home.

She always loved to be outside.  It was where she was happiest, ever since she was a kitten.  She did not catch birds or chase mice — she just seemed to like the freedom, even long before we brought home the dog.  All our previous cats had been indoor only, because letting them outside seemed too dangerous.  But there was no question with this one; to keep her locked up would seem cruel.

We knew we took a chance that her life may be a shorter one, but wanted to make it a happier one.

She was always my garden companion all spring, summer and fall.  When I went out to plant or weed or prune, she would trot out of the woods and come wind around my ankles, waiting for a pet from muddy hands.  Then she would wonder about, and keep me company.  For years, I think we were both hiding outside from noisy children…  In the years I ran my outdoor children’s portrait business in my backyard, she would sometimes come “help” with the shot, and some families had portrait proofs with the cat in them.  Surprise!

She had a reluctant yet softening relationship with the dog.  She had an on-again, off-again relationship with Buster, a male stray that courted her so often we gave him a name.  Buster, the cowboy of stray tomcats.  Oddly, that first night she was missing, I saw Buster for the first time in three months — he startled me in the dark yard as I scanned the rainy night, walking with my flashlight.  He froze with that deer-in-the-headlights look, which I’ll probably now always think of as a cat-in-the-flashlight look.  I whispered “Do you know where she is?”, but he was no help at all, a cowboy cat of few words.

So, I have kept searching, walking not just the perimeter of the woods but all through the brush and branches and along the creek, looking for any sign of her.  I emailed neighbors with a photo, asking if anyone has seen her.  I put up flyers at the vet office and in surrounding neighborhoods, and knocked on doors of people I don’t know asking if I can search the woods behind their houses.  I know there are coyotes that roam the neighborhoods here.  I know that a Yorkshire Terrier disappeared from his nearby wooded backyard three nights after Kitty was last seen.  I know what I find in the woods may not be pleasant.   That is the image that haunts me most.  But I’ve thought for two weeks that if I could just find something, I could stop hoping and stop watching and stop listening for a tiny squeak of a meow at the door.  Since that has not happened, it is now time for me to just let go.

Some well-meaning friends have suggested that she might have always lived a double life, and has had a second “home” that she visited on a regular basis when she stayed out all night before.  Maybe That House just switched to the canned food she was always begging for, so she ditched us with our dry kibble.  Maybe They decided that she should be kept inside at their house from now on, because she is so beautiful and they did not want anything bad to happen to her.  That’s a happier story, and really all of life’s stories are up to us to write.

Someday, maybe I’ll be able to pen one of those heartwarming tales of the pet that disappeared for a long time, and against all odds found its way back home after many adventures and mishaps along the way.  That would be a fun story, but I am going to stop crafting that one in my head, at least for now.  It is time for me to say goodbye.

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search engine funnies 2.0

01 Tuesday Sep 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, something important, I'm sure

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

dogs and cats, google, Jack Kilborn, Jane Koenen Bretl, Judy Clement Wall, search engine, Zebra Sounds

Here it is again:  a quick round-up of search terms that curious people seeking answers to life’s nagging questions typed into their search engine of choice and ended up on my blog instead…

“Jane Killborn”    (hard-core gore thriller author Jack Kilborn‘s eccentric aunt?)

“how to get dogs and cats to get along”    (remains a mystery to all of us….)

“daily mirror cartoon jane”   (can I speak in word bubbles?  That would be fun.)

“guinea hen cooked in pig bladder”   (Cool! I actually talked about that one…)

“something important”   (isn’t that a rather vague search phrase?)

“candid tween”  (I get a lot of visitors with that one)

“find my head”  (if you lose your head, can you find it online?)

“zebra sounds”  (being a fan of blogger/author Judy Clement Wall is lucrative)

And, what remains the most popular random link that googlers follow to reach jane, candid??

“pre-wash cycle”

Yes, where upstanding citizens looking for real advice on how to operate the pre-wash cycle on their dishwasher instead find pictures of my dog licking the plates…

As a writer, one likes to think that people visit said blog on purpose — but if I get a candid tween obsessed, guinea hen cookin’ pet whisperer who lost her head because the dishwasher pre-wash was broken?  I’ll take it.  All are welcome.

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the truth about cats and dogs

09 Thursday Jul 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 5 Comments

Upon our return from vacation, each pet had her own trademark greeting for us.

The dog spent 16 nights at a kennel, with, I’m guessing, approximately 100 dogs barking 24 hours a day; the cat spent two relaxing weeks lounging in the comfort and quiet of her own home, made even more peaceful without children dashing about and no canine predators to chase her.

The cat looked relaxed and refreshed.   Of course, she also had her masseuse (aka cat sitter) stop by to check on her regularly.  I suspect the cat sitter gives her massages…  She looked relatively happy to see us, at least until the kids came in.

“Oh, gee, you’re home already?  Look at me!  By napping 23 hours a day, I erased all my stress-related kitty eye wrinkles and frown lines.  See how great I look?

no wrinkles

*

“Wow — let me tell you, what a great vacation without the d….  WHAT THE ???”

what the fooey?

*

“YOU BROUGHT THE DOG BACK??????????”

*

Conversely, the dog was extremely happy to see the cat.  And us.  And her house.  And her yard. And everything.

*

“Ohboyohboyohboy, kitty, I am sooooo happy to see you!  Is it really you?  Did you miss me too??  HUh? Huh? HUH?

JaneJaneJaneJaneJANE, am I dreaming??  I thought I would never see you again!  I thought you were eaten at the the watering hole!

I’m so happyhappyhappyhappyhappyhappyohboyohboyohboyohboy!”

insert maniacal wagging here

*

Kitty then went outside, preferring the company of the coyote to all of us embarrassing idiots.  Although not before rubbing against the dog’s legs.

Methinks, like someone else we know, she likes the pup more than she lets on…

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She’ll take those over easy

01 Monday Jun 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

birds, cat

it's what's for dinnerAfter perusing the menu of birds, Kitty ordered two sparrows with a side of wren.  Unfortunately, the service was slow.

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a funny thing happened on the way

19 Tuesday May 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

cats, coyote, dog

While on the way to the vet’s office for dear dog’s annual shot-fest and general probing, I received a call from a concerned neighbor.  She had been watching a large coyote in the adjacent yard with amazement and curiosity;  a very rare sight here in our burb.  She was taking pictures of the huge animal sunning itself, when she suddenly saw our cat heading in that direction, pursued by not one but two amorous tomcats.  (There has been a lot of catting around, a springtime hobby of Kitty and enviable aspect of the neutered cat pal lifestyle.)

The neighbor quickly realized the danger sweet Kitty was in, and reached me on my cell just as I pulled in to the vet office, stool sample and nervous dog in hand.  With visions of a possible trip right back to the vet with an injured (or worse) Kitty, I blew though the door blabbling some incoherent story about coyote and cat and neighbor.  They said “leave the dog and run!”, so I threw the leash and tossed the baggie of poo at the receptionist as I sprinted back out the door.

I am quite sure these people are not paid enough for what they do.

Long story short, after Kind Neighbor and I wandered through the woods calling her name (and listening for coyote footsteps), Kitty came trotting back out into the sunshine with her tail in its happy question mark shape.  I scooped her up before she could even rub against my ankles and carried her back home, with my nose nuzzled in her white fuzzy neck.

Her tomcat friends had made themselves scarce.  One boy in particular has been such a frequent admirer around our house that we have named him.  He is Buster.  We don’t know where he lives.  He is scruffy and tough and looks like he has packed a lot of living into about eight lives.  He is the lonesome cowboy of cats.  I imagined him faced with the coyote in the woods, his beloved female in danger, throwing himself in front of her just as the hungry beast with saliva-dripping fangs lunged for her neck, sacrificing his last life for his true love.  I thought if I never saw him again, I would know why.  And how could he not do it, when she is such a sweet girl?  Poor Buster.

his true love?

Of course Buster wandered through the backyard about three hours later, probably after his afternoon siesta, looking to see if she was outside again.  Apparently his hero services were not required.

Which leads me to the question: what to do now?  Kitty is an outdoors-loving cat, and not just because of her active social life.  She had been a stray kitten, and clearly loved being outside from the day she came to live with us.  All our previous cats had been indoor cats, but it was clear this one was happiest when allowed to roam around the garden and woods.  When she is outside, she looks like she is smiling.

Does the responsible pet owner do everything possible to prolong the pet’s life to its maximum, or let her sometimes go free to live a happy life that might be shorter?  Holding her in my arms, I wanted to protect her forever.  After her own nap, she wanted back out into the sunshine.  I let her go.  (Then last night I dreamed of finding nothing but white clumps of fur in the backyard the next day.)

I went back to get the dog, and thanked the understanding and caring staff at the vet’s office.  Back home, I pondered this familiar dilemma in the life of a grown-up: when to let go.  Of pets and kids and careers and life’s baggage.  Maybe pet decisions are good practice for the tween years.  Life is full of coyotes, but Kitty does not live in fear.  I’m still working on it.

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always check the couch cushions

28 Tuesday Apr 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

cat, icanhascheezburger.com

Normally I only post my own photography (other than guest author pics, etc.)  Today is an exception, since this one from icanhascheezburger.com so perfectly captures what Big D and I have said for years:

funny-pictures-cat-has-a-lot-of-extra-fur2

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Kilborn conniption

19 Sunday Apr 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Writing

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Afraid, book tour, dog, Jack Kilborn, Joe Konrath

Jack Kilborn paid a visit to our house, and our dog had a conniption.

As usual, my adventures with this intrepid author-on-a-mission started out innocently enough.  He had blogged about his upcoming “book tour on a budget”, repeating his 2006 grass roots marketing, manically ambitious yet cunningly practical, value added, trend-setting 600+ bookstore book signing extouraganza.  (New!  Now 30% more effective than the previous formula with extra cost fighting power!)  He is promoting his new book Afraid, which I now own and has freaked me out so badly with its hard-core-gore that I can’t crack the cover again.

He had already traveled 742 miles and dropped in on 47 book stores in a couple days.  We offered this weary traveler a good night’s rest, and knew we would likely have a Saturday night far more interesting than usual.

As you may suspect, he is fascinating to talk to.  He tells great stories.  It was a hoot and an honor to have him visit and have the opportunity to shoot the breeze for hours.  Unfortunately I am such a new newbie that I did not even know what to ask him, this author with half a bazillion books in print, sitting in our living room.  After reading along on his 31 day blog tour, I had read the 283 Q&A interviews he had already done; with a mind like a steel sieve, I managed to ask lots of questions to which I already knew the answers then mentally thump myself on the head.  I hope I was at least charming in a dumbfounded kind of way.  He gave me good advice.

joe, friend of dogs I am a big fan of his blog The Newbie’s Guide To Publishing,  with its archives of extremely helpful and generous information for new writers like me.  His real name is Joe Konrath.  He’s funny.  Look at his picture.  How scary could he be?

Then something went awry…

Maybe she sensed the creative mind that wrote a scene involving a jingling dog collar with no dog in it.

Maybe she was really ticked that he would not share his beer.

*

*

*

Whatever the reason, this is apparently who the dog saw sitting in the recliner:conniption producing visitor

She slept with one eye open all night.

She is, as I type, growling in her sleep even though he left the house six hours ago.

She had a canine conniption.

*

They made a truce this morning, my befuddled pet and bewildered guest.  After he left, I realized I did not remember to take a picture. (Mind, sieve, daggnabbit.)

It was a Saturday night to remember.

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pet pal finder

13 Monday Apr 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Bo, cat, dog, first family, pet adoption, petfinder.com

Petfinder.com = internet dating for dogs (and cats).

New pets in the news  — you have seen the new first pup Bo’Bama, right? — have suddenly spurred lots of spirited discussion about ways to find a new pet.  Hey, when looking for just the right pal and simultaneously trying to run a (messed up) country, their path seemed as reasonable a method as any.  So this dog did not work out in his first home, and now he gets a really nice house;  it’s all good.  And, none of our business, really.  I think the First Family set a fine example by carefully considering and researching their pet before adopting.

I found our last cat on petfinder.com, a centralized search site for adoptable pets.  I spent many late evenings, when all reasonable members of my household were sleeping, browsing the selection of kittens available in my area.  Petfinder lets you set pet parameters such as breed, age, size, gender;  then gives you the closest geographic matches, most from shelters or foster homes.  I viewed so many little kitten faces, many of them carefully posed by those marketing geniuses at the shelters. After viewing hundreds of cat photos and profiles, I found The One I wanted.  Big D did foolishly ask, given that there might be several thousand cats in our state, why were we driving to Indiana to get a kitten?  But when internet dating, sometimes you make a connection…  OK, so I never actually did internet dating for a human, but I guess it would be the same???

Recently we did another online search for a possible second dog.  Same deal — I was sure we would “know her when we saw her.” Most of the dogs have a little backstory written with all kinds of romantic, enticing details (there are those marketing folks again)… Tabitha the dog likes long walks by the beach and snuggling by the fire on a snowy evening.  Lola the dog likes drinking pina coladas, and taking walks in the rain…  you get the picture.  But it is the eyes of the animal in the photo — that’s the match-maker for me.  This time, we both did the searching, but did not find The One.  It was not the right time for the right dog.  Someday.

So, for now, our pup has her neutered dog pal next door.  The cat is safe from another possible predator.  We will watch vicariously as another family enjoys their new pet.  Welcome home, Bo.  Just don’t chew anything that belonged to Lincoln, or you will be in big trouble, little fella.

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jane, candid

In 2009, I started this blog to share my sometimes thoughtful, sometimes funny, occasionally irreverent thoughts on motherhood, writing for publication and myriad creatures that got along as cats and dogs.

One day, I felt like stepping away from living out loud for awhile. Eh, life happens.

Fast forward five years -- I'll gloss over the details for now -- save to say that lucky for me an unexpected detour has provided some new material.

So here I am, standing at the corner. I've been here before, wondering which way to go. This time I choose living.

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