FlashEssays
BAD HABITS Published in The Sun Magazine
Of bad habits I have none. Wait. If I think on it a little further, I guess I may have one. Don’t we all have at least one bad habit like drinking or smoking or cheating at poker? And does one have to think the habit is bad for it to be bad or is that up to those who know us? When I ponder the way I rescue animals and make a home for them, I believe it is a good thing, but my husband thinks it’s a bad habit. “You can’t save them all,” he says.
But I know I can save this one.
Rosie and Emmett, Skky and Odie, Baxter and Murphy, Jake and Bennie. Is it not a good thing that I took them in? “I’ll find a good home,” I declare with resolution. And I do. One of them always sits beside me as I write, another when I eat. I’m always accompanied on my walks and even when I pee. My bed at night is full of my bad habits. Baxter on my pillow and Odie near my heart, Emmett tucked behind my knee, Murphy warms my feet. My bad habits sometime keep me up at night, but I am never cold. Or lonely. In fact I think I am more flexible because of it. I have mastered, not only the ‘downward dog,’ but also ‘let sleeping dogs lie’ and ‘the twisted cat triangle.’
Perhaps if I got a larger bed they would all fit. “Oh no you don’t,” says my husband, “no horses in the house!” What if I got rid of him? I’d have plenty of room then, I thought. If he slept next door, or even in the garage, I could squeeze another two or three, or maybe more. I say this in jest because I really wouldn’t do it. Would I? So add another bad habit to my list.
In the morning when I wake, I carefully extract myself without disturbing my furry companions. I creep outside to feed the horses and then return to make breakfast for those who live indoors. Eggs for Murphy. Tuna for Emmett and Baxter. Milk for Odie. The cats are getting on in age, the oldest 93 in people years, and have become quite picky in what they eat. So I let them have whatever they want. Really, what could it hurt?
MORNING CHORES: A How-To Manual for Living with Animals
You must wake up early – there’s really no other way to do this. The dog is restless and the horses are hungry, standing at the gate, looking at the house. Of course hubby is sleeping, so you must be quiet and dress in the dark while the cats wind their bodies around your ankles and the dog whines for you to please hurry it up. You will not find both of your socks in the dark, so don’t even bother looking. You will have to take your chances with the bottomless sock drawer. Later you will be surprised about which two socks you chose in the inky blackness. If it’s a good day you will avoid stepping on a tail or tripping over the dog. If you’re not so fortunate, keep it to yourself. Not that hubby will wake up if you curse out loud. He sleeps like a log, the lucky sonofabitch.
Here’s where it can get dangerous. You now need to make your way down the steep and slippery hardwood steps in the dark, half asleep, with two cats and a dog stopping frequently in front of you. This is where your previous sock decision can make or break you. Hopefully you managed to grab a pair with the little rubber grippy things on the bottom. If not, your life is about to get much more interesting.
Hopefully you made it without killing yourself and you are feeling your way through the dining room and then the kitchen. The dog’s whining has picked up in volume and crescendo and is now joined by the insistent meowing of the cats, who feel as supreme beings, should be fed first. You must ignore them. Ignore them. Seriously, pretend they are not there. Once you manage to get out the door, hopefully in one piece, mind that last step down. Your husband has been meaning to repair it and will get to it. Eventually. It may be too dark to see the horses, but by now you will definitely hear them. Don’t worry about the dog, he’s just run off behind the chicken coop to do his thing. Stay with me.
Once in the barn, you can switch on a light. It’s so dim it will not blind you. Next, pick up an impossibly heavy bale of hay and balance it expertly while trying to unlatch not one, but two doors in order to get outside. Out in the pasture you will be accosted by three 1400 pound animals in the advanced stages of starvation. It will be evident by their swelling bellies and backsides that they haven’t seen a decent meal, like ever. Hang on tight to that hay bale because you must walk between them while they attempt to snatch it out of your grip. Once you reach the hay feeder, you may set the bale down, but be prepared to defend it until it is all safely in the manger. Don’t worry, once they have their food they will forget that you exist and you may safely extricate yourself from their company.
On to the chicken coop. And that dog? He’s suddenly beside you in the dark with his favorite ball, smacking it into your shins until you relent and offer to throw it for him. But he won’t give it up, so don’t even try. This isn’t fetch, it’s keep away and he’s damn good at it. Oh yeah, the chickens, almost forgot. They have a light on in their coop this time of year to keep them laying, so at least you can see what you’re stepping in, I mean doing. Make sure their feeder is full. Believe me, if it’s not, there will be squawking. Who am I kidding? There will be squawking regardless. And pay attention to that dog who’s trying to weasel his way in from between your legs. No, he won’t hurt the chickens, he just likes the taste of poop.
There’s eggs in the nest boxes, so be sure to collect them before they freeze. I know it’s tempting to put them in your pocket – I get that, but don’t do it. You will forget they are there until the next time you put on that jacket. And absolutely no running with the eggs. Trust me on this one.
Alright you’re back in the house. Time to relax and make a cup of coffee. But not so fast. There’s two cats and a dog who are clearly starving to death here. And eggs – don’t forget those eggs. I told you not to put them in your pocket! Okay, so Emmett, the elderly white cat with the loudest voice gets soft food because he’s down to his last few teeth. Hey – he’s like 96 in human years, so cut him some slack. Odie, the one in the black tuxedo gets milk. I know you’re not supposed to give cats milk because it can give them diarrhea, but he has problems with constipation, so, it kind of balances out.
Whoa, watch out for the slippery puddle of drool you almost stepped in. Poor mutt Murphy gets slobbery when he watches the cats eat. Oh yeah, he gets an egg. Over easy, with a little bit of whatever meat scraps you have lying around. Make sure it’s over easy because he doesn’t like his yolks cooked too hard. There. Now for that coffee.
