Whisky is 4 months old and has been my resident furry animal for all of 4 weeks.
Soon, two more furry animals will be taking up residence with us. Sambal, who is 3/4 German Shepherd and 1/4 Labrador, and Carbon Copy a.k.a Carbo, who is 1/2 German Shepherd and 1/2 Labrador. Both of them are 4 months old.
Why am I doing this? I've always wanted a cat. I can't live without dogs. I'm greedy.
I wonder whether I'm making a big mistake in thinking I can tweak an ancient animal enmity. I have two pictures in my mind. One of Whisky, Sambal, and Carbo sleeping peacefully in one big cuddly heap. And another of Whisky... No never mind, it's too horrible to write it down. If things work out, it will be bliss!
My first-ever cat, Ikura, was killed by neighboring dogs just six-weeks into his residency. That was last year, and I've moved from that place now. In some twisted subconscious semi-perverted corner of my mind, I am attempting to rectify the death of Ikura, to turn enemies into friends.
It strikes me how a lot of the things I've been trying to do in my thirty-somethings are attempts to rectify past wrongs. And it strikes me how much the words rectify and rectum are alike. If rectification fails, you end up with your head up your own rectum.
Just look at Whisky. If this family-making experiment fails, I will have failed him, the dogs, and messed up a whole lot of karma.