Cat-tagious

Snooper was dead and I thought it was all my fault. Every day when I was around eight years old, I was supposed to go check on our pet rabbit that lived out in a hutch in our backyard. And every day Snooper would greet me enthusiastically because I'd bring him some vegetables. But then one day, Snooper laid on his side and flies buzzed around him. He didn't move. I knew something was terribly wrong.

My mom did her best to convince me that it wasn't my fault, that Snooper was an old rabbit and time for him to go, but I still thought I did something wrong. That feeling stuck with me for months until it finally faded.

I never forgot it, though, and decades later my family got a new rabbit after our Guinea pigs died. He was only a baby bunny with mostly white fur except around his eyes and on his back. Our girls named him Dragonlily because of the black fur on his back looked like a dragon with its wings spread. 

That was six years ago now. Since, Dragonlily went from living in our house in a big cage at night to an outside hutch. During the days, unless it was raining, we had an open pen area for him to roam around. We didn't really play with him like a dog or a cat, but he was still a beloved family pet. We ran a fun (and safe) science experiment with him (and one of our Guinea pigs) that failed, and I even wrote a fun story about them -- The Adventures of Sweetheart and Dragonlily: Part 1.

But recently one morning my wife Amy noticed that Dragonlily wasn't feeling good, which was rare, and only hours after his first visit to the vet that same day where they didn't really find anything but gave us antibiotics to give him, he was dead. This time I didn't think it was anything we did. He just got sick and died, quickly. 

We've had our share of pets die over the years, and it's always sad. From two cats and a dog before we had children, to the pets since kids -- fish, Guinea pigs, and now our sweet rabbit. Each time our kids grieved and we grieved as a family. The circle of life and death understood incrementally as our kids got older. 

Our dog Jenny that we had adopted right before the pandemic lockdown is now seven and healthy. We still call her our puppy even though she was already four when we adopted her. And if you were a fan of Modern Family like we were, Amy and girls tease me that Jenny is my Stella, Jay's French Bulldog dog from the sitcom, because she's the one I care about the most. Which isn't true. Mostly. 

But our youngest Bryce has wanted a cat more than anything for months now. And I have not. Amy didn't at first either, and neither did our oldest Beatrice, but Amy has since gotten on board and Beatrice has been on the fence. 

But for me at first? No way. Amy's cats were fine when we were first dating and living together, but over the years, the scratching up of things and stinky litter boxes were a lot. Also, growing up my sister would always bring stray cats home and the few we kept were a lot. One of those was a Persian we named Fluffy that we had to shave every six months because her hair would get so matted, which caused her to howl. And one of the cats we had that my sister didn't bring home was a cross-eyed Siamese who would be lovey one minute and then growl and hiss and pounce on my head the next. 

No way. No stinky, howly, scratchy, or pouncy cats. Ever again. In fact, the only cat thing I was willing to indulge in with Bryce were funny cat videos. Bryce worked on us (and me) for months, but I wasn't budging. However, just like we did when we adopted a dog, Amy had Bryce do research about cat care and costs and to put a budget together. Our family joke was that Dad wanted Bryce to write a series of essays about why we should adopt a cat and that Bryce should put together a business plan in order to convince me that she could adopt and care for a cat. 

And I did. Until a series of events began that changed the trajectory of my cat angst. For example, Amy and I had gone to an event that had a raffle and we were one of the winners. Out of all the prizes being given away, we won the cat bed and cat accessories prize. Ugh. I also found myself watching more funny cat videos without the kids. Good God. And then our pet rabbit died, leaving us one less pet to take care of.

So, it was meant to be that one day Mom and Bryce went out to the animal shelters and brought home sweet 15-week old Winston. Mercy me, he's cat-tagious. And he's staying in Bryce's room. Forever. 

Because what happens in the middle of the night with a cat and a Christmas tree? Maybe I need to put up some "Hang in there" cat posters around the house. Sigh.