Maybe I’m an enigma.
Maybe I don’t even know what enigma means, but I always wanted to say that. Wait, did I say that out loud?
I’ve been told that you can be either a cat person or a dog person but not both. Why can’t I be both? I wanna be both!
OK. I’ve decided I’m going to be both.
I suppose the dog person was born long ago when I was just a baby. My mother had a Boxer (Arno) that was her companion in Germany while my father was stationed there in the ’50s. My mom says Arno was more protective of me than she was. She would put me in the yard in my car carrier and Arno would lean against it and bark at the man mowing his lawn three doors down. I regret it, but I don’t remember him at all. I have seen pics, though, so I’m pretty sure mom isn’t lying. (Just kidding, mom. You don’t have Internet yet, but you will probably read this one day.)
Since then quite a few dogs have passed through our household. Some stand out in my mind. Others have receded. I guess the most prominent dog memory for me is Lonnie. He was born in 1979 and registered as Ludwig vom Windemere Wold. I’m told that means Wendy’s Woods in German. I haven’t had German since the 8th grade, so I’m not sure. That was too much of a mouthful anyway, so we just called him Lonnie. He just looked at you funny if you tried to call him Ludwig. Plus, he didn’t wear a powdered wig, so he didn’t look like a Ludwig.
But I digress (I’ve always wanted to say that, too.) Lonnie was a German Shepherd and a trained search and rescue dog. I trained him and searched and rescued with him. He went everywhere with me, including my office. It’s easy to take a dog along when he’s properly trained. (Oops! Didn’t mean to start moralizing.) We spent lots of hours in the mountain wilderness together. Practice searching, backpacking, he did it all. He was my friend and protector. He was awesome. He’s been gone many years. I want him back even more than my Fable II dog. And that’s quite a bit (ask any Fable II fan about their cool dog.) Oh, and for the uninitiated in the audience, Fable II is a video game. One of the few upon which I’m hooked. But that’s a blog for another day.
So I guess you would say I was a dog person first. Well, maybe YOU wouldn’t say that. At least, not out loud. Because then someone would think you were a little crazy or something, ya know, talking to yourself.
Did I digress again? Anyway, sometime soon after our wedding (1977) my BFF bride and I got a kitten. All you have to do is raise a cat from a kitten and you’ll be hooked. Yes, cats are independent and pretty much take care of themselves. No. they won’t come when called (well, maybe our cat Tai Lung is an exception to that.) No, they won’t meet you at the door, tongue out, tail wagging. But hold one close, rub it’s head, scratch it’s ears and listen to it’s quiet purr. There’s nothing like it. Until they poop behind the couch. BAM! How’s that for ruining a mental image.
Many cats have passed through our household. Current reigning queen of the household would be Callie. She was a gift to our daughter for her kindergarten graduation. Peggy (twitter: @peggerspregers) is now 21, so I guess that makes Callie about 15. She keeps all the other dogs and cats in line or runs away and sulks. She’s so emo.

Callie - Queen of the Manor
Fact is, as soon as I sit down, Callie comes and sits in my lap. Whether I want her to or not. Whether I try to get her to move or not. She just digs the old claws into my living tissue and holds on, daring me to move her. And when I finally get her talons out of my flesh, she runs away and sulks. Give her 30 minutes or so and she’ll be back to go through the whole process again. What can I say? She’s a sweetie.
So, can we agree that I’m an enigma? And not the kind of enigma that encodes/decodes messages? (That was for the history buffs that are reading.)
OK. I’m done for now. I’m definitely going to have to find more controversial subjects to write about. I was considering writing about stupid things people post on the (very public) Internet. We’ll see how that works out.
Now, where did I leave my cup?

5 comments
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August 22, 2009 at 12:23 pm
Jenny
Don’t know where your cup is, but you have my sympathies on that score. My cup is on the table beside my recliner. Sadly both recliner and cup are empty. It’s time for me to get to work … almost.
I am an absolute dog person, but I am not immune to cats.
At least I don’t think so.
That being said, it is only fair to point out that we may never know, as I’ve never owned a cat and doubt I ever will, as long as there are puppies. And I’m pretty sure puppies are here to stay.
At least I hope so.
My dog, Javier, is a neurotic six-pound Chihuahua — a delightfully maddening combination of sweetness and pestilence — who has just passed his 10th/70th birthday. He has a huge vocabulary and many funny mannerisms. He is not a trembler or a yapper, but he does hate thunder. He is my baby. The ideal lap dog.
But I digress …
Thanks for a WONDERFULLY WRITTEN post on how precious it is to love an animal. They teach us so much about unquestioning devotion.
Again, so glad to have found you on Twitter, and to have found your blog. Thanks for adding me to your “Friends” roll! I am touched and honored!
@JennyPennifer
August 22, 2009 at 9:26 pm
Tim
Hi Jenny.
Our family has a couple chihuahua-like dogs. At least they’ve got some chihuahua in them, I’m sure. My wife’s dog Buddy has got some Jack Russell in there as well. My daughter and son-in-law have a little guy who must have mini-pinscher in him as well. His name is Tank.
I was always a big-dog guy. But these two have won me over in the small dog category.
Thanks for your comment and I look forward to your tweets.
Tim
August 22, 2009 at 2:49 pm
JW
Cats are still a usless waste of good fur. Although, the meat down at Great China Cafe is rather tasty.
August 22, 2009 at 9:21 pm
Tim
You’re such a funny guy!
August 23, 2009 at 9:51 pm
terri
Ohhhhhh Tim…you are no longer an enigma. The mystery is unveiled. You were raised my a German Boxer…that explains a LOT of things which here to fore had NO explanation! Bless your heart.
I actually have tremendous respect for a man who is confident enough to admit that he not only tolerates cats, but actually loves them…along with his dogs, of course.
I will never forget hearing a comedian talking about this wife wanting to buy a cat for their four year old son. “A Cat? A CAT! You get our son a cat and you might as well sign him up for ballet classes!” But I digress…
I am a Two Cats/Two Dogs person myself. Actually, I think it is an indication that we are highly intelligent, open minded, domesticated adventure seekers. And fairly easily taken in by anything that needs to be rescued!
Blessings from Sony, Tommy, Roxie, Georgia and Terri