Just another paper written for school.
Their week of relaxation became my week of stress overload. My parents left for a vacation in the mountains a few days ago, leaving my elder sister, her fiancé, and myself the duties of caring for our pets and the house. Surely such a simple task would hold no adversity. My how wrong my thoughts proved.
The first night of their vacation I worried about Beauregard, our seven month old German Sheppard/ Pit Bull Terrier puppy. He loves my parents, and suffers from separation anxiety. For most of the night I watched him pace back and forth in the hallway, waiting for them to come home. Finally, around two in the morning he jumped onto my bed and slept.
Next, the cats woke.
Crash! Blam! Kerplunk! With tired eyes and a mind on the fritz, I slowly clambered out of my nice warm bed. My sleepy mind met with the sensation of pain as I stubbed my toe on a vase my kitten Izzabella, ever so kindly knocked down. With a few mumbled select words I made my way groggily down the stairs to the kitchen, the cats swarming around me and mewling loudly. Ugh, I needed sleep badly.
With a yawn I started feeding the cats, groaning as I saw their dry food dish still partially filled. They woke me out of spite, I swear to it. By the time I placed down their wet food, all six furry bodies stood around my ankles, gazing up at me and waiting.
A clamoring fell upon my ears, signaling that Beau woke up and decided to venture downstairs.
All chaos broke loose. Six furry bodies scattered, jumping over the baby gate or running down into the basement. He chased them throughout the house, his tail wagging happily. I spared a weary glance at the digital clock above the oven. Three twenty-six in the morning, one day down, six left to go. God help me.
My pets could function well as a demolition crew.
Between the dog who chews everything he possibly gains access to, and the cats that dull their claws on the things the dog cannot reach, I deal with the aftermath of destruction. Claw marks adorning the heavy wood doors, both canine and feline show to who the pets give their love and loyalty.
They love me, and yet they insist on wrecking my bedroom.
I swear my room contained little mess before my parents went on vacation. Now it looks as if a bomb or two (or maybe even three) went off in there. Every attempt at cleaning the mess ultimately ends up in failure. Such happenings give me great cause for frustration towards my many pets.
However, their cuteness nullifies most of my frustrations.
I think back to the days when Beau came home for the first time. I think back to when his body could fit in my hands, when I taught him to walk down the steps by himself, his little body making soft thumps on the stairs as he hopped down awkwardly.
I remember when Izzabella resembled a tiny ball of fluff, how she made nomming noises when she ate her first dry kitten food. She still eats too fast for her own good. I remember fondly how cute she looked asleep on my mouse pad, all curled up and dreaming sweetly. I sit and smile reflecting on the past adventures with my pets only to exit my memories as I hear another yip from the dog, and a hiss from a cat. Come on guys! Break it up already!