Getting Along

    When this whole quarantine thing started, my cat, Oscar, was a little suspicious that I was making an excuse for getting fired, again. I haven’t always been honest with him, going so far as to blame it on the dog, Beau. Oscar always gives me that look like “you’re the loser here, don’t blame the dog.” Beau’s a little more forgiving than Oscar. I could hang Kennedy’s assassination on him, and he’d still wag his tail when I come in the house.

    When they cancelled baseball, Oscar finally came around and decided I might be telling the truth this time. He and Beau are big fans; they were sorely disappointed. Then when they salvaged part of the season, as penitence, he made me get the MLB cable package. Now he can see every game twice in one day. Just between you and me, I think he’s got a bit of a gambling problem. He’s calling his bookie an awful lot lately.

    Beau doesn’t have any problems except Oscar, but he’s a Basset Hound so you can never really tell what’s going on behind those blood shot eyes. Unlike Oscar, Beau thinks I hung the moon. I try not to let him down. He’s a great guy, not so much Oscar though. I mean, who’s he to judge me? He’s never pitched in on the rent once.

    Last night I woke up suddenly to find him sitting on my chest, and I swear he had a blade in his paw. By the time I got the light on and my eyes rubbed clear he’d hid it and was lying lazily on the bed like I’d lost my mind. Of course he denied it all, but I know what evil lurks in that little critter’s heart.

    I’m concerned that he’s allowed himself to get this crazy over something as small as a virus, so I’m upping his catnip dose and sleeping with my eyes open tonight. He’s not the only one who can see in the dark. If he comes after me again, I’m not going to cut him, but if I see that blade, he’s going out on the screened in porch. He hates that, all those bugs tormenting him, just daring him to catch them. I leave the light on, so he has plenty of company.

    I look forward to when things return to normal, whenever that may be. Maybe I’ll even go to a live ball game next year. Oscar doesn’t care; he’s going to hate either way. Beau’s with me. He’s just glad baseball’s back. Unfortunately, he’s a big Yankees fan, and I hate the Yankees, but I let him watch them sometimes. You’ve got to give and take in times like these. It works for us. We’re like two dead pigs in the sunshine. Oscar’s not the sharing type.

    If there’s anyone else out there having trouble with your critters, give me a call. Maybe we can set them up for a play date. I’ll make Oscar wear a mask.