Kids and Critters

Occasionally, I need to break the mold and talk about things that bring me joy. Today's post is one of those times.

Two of my joys in life are young children and our pets. Kids do not care anything about a person being 'handicapped'. They just know that you have a special chair on wheels with a joystick that can spin in circles and stop on a dime. All kids understand that a joystick is for playing games. I believe it is something in their genes. It seems like all kids from ages two and up to about eight want a ride on my special chair and love the games I can play with them. Their laughter is contagious. I remember being in the church parking lot after a wedding giving rides to Anna Leigh and Mitchell. We played several games while their parents visited and said their goodbyes. The next time they saw me; they ran up and immediately wanted another ride. It is good medicine for them and especially for me.

Our critters do not recognize that I am handicapped either. All three were strays that showed up on our doorstep. They all had a tough life and are making up for it today. My beagle, Fred, just wants me to get off my butt and take him for at least four walks a day. He actually walks and I drive the golf cart. We go down the hill and halfway around the lake before we do a 180. He then checks out the other side of the road and woods for new smells. Marking territory is an exact science for beagles and Fred does not want to miss a spot, tree or mailbox. The entire adventure takes about half an hour and I enjoy every minute of it. I am an avid birdwatcher. Having a forest, meadow and lake as part of our cruising territory during our walk gives me plenty of time to check out the many varieties of birds as well as other wildlife including the beavers, otters, turkey, and deer. There is never a boring trip when walking Fred.

Our two cats are also good for me. They let me know every hour of every day that I am not the center of attention in our household. They are the Lord and Lady of this domain and rule with raspy tongues and sharp claws. If I am not focused on them and their needs, they let me know immediately. For example, I have a high-back office chair that rotates and reclines. It is very comfortable. Willy, our older cat, decided several years ago that the chair is his. It is only available when he is not napping. If he is ready for a nap, he comes into the office, stands directly in front of me, and stares me down. If I do not pay him any attention, he jumps up on the desk and sits down on the keyboard. About then I get the idea and give him back his chair (check and mate). Fortunately, he only naps about ten hours a day.

Lucy, on the other hand, feels that when it is time to eat, be rubbed down, or scratched, I need to stop whatever I am doing and give her the appropriate attention she deserves. When she is through, she just walks away (without even so much as a thank you) and does not want anything to do with me until the next time she desires something. No matter where I am or what I am doing, until her needs are met there is no peace. And, since Willy has taken ownership of my office chair, Lucy, not to be outdone, has taken ownership of my wheelchair.

Is nothing sacred in this house?