Dogs are dogs.  And cats are cats.

And sometimes the two shall meet…..

We got home late yesterday evening from our home in the south.  To make a long story short….. we adopted a new dog in the north.  So yesterday evening, all the dogs and cats met for the first time.

Things actually went better than I expected.

Brief assessment of the players:

1. Maxine – 11 year old terrier mix rescue… has ruled the roost here for nearly a decade.
2. Frances – 9 year old lab mix rescue….has been ruled by her little sissy Maxine…ever since the day Frances arrived.
3. Winslow Homer, aka, Winnie – psychotic cat… 11 years old…. neurotic and prone to hallucinations, and severe paranoia.  Doesn’t care who rules the roost… as long as they don’t look at her and heaven forbid…. don’t touch her.

New kid on the block:

4. Ollie – 9 month old terrier mix… energetic, and … extremely cute & lovable …. and let’s say… um…. energetic.  Did I mention she was a bit on the energetic side?  Oh yes, and an enormous penchant for cats.

The first conversation between Winnie and Ollie:

Win:  “Touch me, you little mongrel, and I WILL slap those ears right off the sides of your head.”

Ollie:  “What the heck are ears?  Hey, can I sniff your butt again?  Then let’s touch noses… hard!  Hey… your but smells waffles.  Hey, hey… what is that possessed-demon-growl noise coming from your belly?  You need some Tums?  Hey… now your butt smell like candy corn… let me chew on your cheeks a little.. yeah, yeah, yeah…now back to your butt… oh now it smells like….. ”

We have a little work to do here.

I am pretty sure I brought my Canine-Feline Magic Wand home with me…. I just can’t remember which box I packed it in….  And until I find it…..  Things in this little corner of the animal world seem to be just a bit “Ruff.  Ruff.”

There is something about being in a vehicle for nearly 14 hours…. with two dogs, one cat, and one other human…. in Fourth of July Weekend Traffic….. that really does something to a person.

Not really a “bad” something… Just “a” something.  It changes you.

The typical psychological fixations and obsessions begin to occur, really.  Conjured word definitions.   Hallucinations.  Increased Appetite.  Ability to recall lyrics to all songs from the 1950s to present day….  and sing them loudly.

And it doesn’t just happen to one person in that particular car, truck, or van…. no.  It begins to affect all individuals, man and beast alike.

I call it Travelopathy…. also known in certain circles as Voyagitis.

You know you have reached the apex of the neurosis…. when you both order the same exact fast food meal…. down to the extra pickles…. and then for the next 57 miles, do a side-by-side critique of the Wendy’s Single with Cheese.  Not only do you thoroughly examine the cuisine at hand…. upon completion……you feel quite satisfied with your dazzling assessment of this burger and fries combo.

Other phenomenon take place.  You set a way-point as your “next stop”…. and when it gets within a hundred miles…. you say “Hey, we are getting pretty dang close.”  Oh, I like a good gallivant as well as the next Joe.  But when you start playing 20 questions, or the Volkswagen “Red One / Blue One” game… you know the Globe Trotting is better left up to that snazzy basketball team from New York.

Yes.  The effects of the trauma are far-reaching…. yet… when you pull in the driveway… they all seem to disappear.  Vanish….. Evaporate.

And all you can see are those ruby-red slippers clicking together….  and your heart begins to say…..
There’s no place like home.