Archives from 2002-2006

Mar

25

A visit from an old friend

I have MISS RUBY DAWG here this week! She needed a place to stay during a spring break trip and so she is here, a big sweet heavy-breathing heavy-everything presence for a bit of time.

Dylan and I did a trial visit to see how the cat would do, and Billy initially surprised me by shooting under the bed and tiptoeing anxiously around with saucer eyes — I thought bro was fearless! — but it did not take long at all for him to warm up to a state of wary but obvious curiosity.

Here on their fourth day together, Ruby remains largely oblivious/occasionally cautious of Billy, while Billy has become obsessed/entertained with Ruby. Whenever she’s not sleeping, Ruby follows me everywhere in hopes of food, while Billy follows her close behind, visibly taking notes.

A little animal choo-choo train sounds delightfully festive and it sort of is, but also I get to the point several times throughout the day where I’m just like CAN ALL YOU HONEY BUNNIES PLEASE CHILL I AM JUST GOING TO THE BATHROOM.

Poor/resilient Ruby is quite elderly now. 14? I would need to look at the old-life birthday calendar to be sure. She has a hard time getting around, although once she’s up and moving she’s slow but okay. Her back hips/legs can easily give out on slippery flooring and then she’s unable to get herself up again without a boost, so I’ve strewn a real hodgepodge of rugs/towels around the kitchen which is the main area in my house without carpet.

I have taken her for a couple walks around the neighborhood, which she deeply enjoyed. I was unsure if she could handle it, but once we get past the chaotic transition of the garage steps, she is good if not exactly speedy.

In fact, her slow pace has been kind of a delight, because as we mosey along with her whuffling up the smells of the world I can more nosily peer at my neighbors’ front yards and stoops. One time I met up with my neighbor pal and her Lab and that was extra nice. I used to be anxious with Ruby on walks because she had some leash aggression, not sure that’s the right term for it but she could be kind of rude and barky at other dogs if approached when on leash. This does not seem to be any kind of issue now, perhaps like many of us in older age her once-lush field of fucks has reduced in size and focus over the years. Also she’s mostly deaf, has the aforementioned mobility issues, and while relentlessly sweet may be a little on the senile side now.

In the house, when they’re not trailing me around, Ruby mostly rests and Billy works up various approaches to try and scare her/entice her to play. If I’m nearby he gets especially bold, and comes in to lightly swat her tail then go shooting off at top speed. Or he’ll do this absolutely hilarious routine of morphing into the classic Halloween cat position — back arched, fur on end, ears in airplane mode — then somehow without adjusting anything he comes flying in with a Tokyo drift type maneuver before skittering away like a crab.

I’ve been going to bed earlier than usual because that is a surefire way to get them to settle. Ruby has her dog bed kind of wedged in one of my closets, and throughout the night she snores away down there while Billy lies in a cinnamon-bun swirl up near my face. The room gently fills with Eau de Elder Lab (strong undernotes of fish and musk with a Frito finish). I pluck a long cat hair from my mouth. The choo-choo train takes a beat.