I sat on my couch last night enjoying a glass of red wine with my wife and as I looked around the room, I thought, it's really crowded in here.
Grandma was at my right elbow, Izzy was in my lap and Sammy and Huckelberry were snuggling on the floor.
As Rosie paced the area looking for a drink, Katrina kept coming into the room, and then would turn and walk toward the bedroom, giving us the evil eye dropping a serious hint that it was time for everyone to go to bed.
I was a bit peeved at Tigger because as Grandma's oldest living dependent, you would have thought he would have given up his compfy seat on the couch to his mom,Grandma, who was perch precariously on the arm of the couch next to me. Grandma is old and tends to teeter this way and that.
This might sound like a family reunion from hell or a bad Disney Movie, but it's just another night at the Finucane household, my wife and I and a truck load of animal rescues.
As a guy who grew up animal-less, I think I deserve some serious props, as I find myself now with a pet food bill that rivals our people food bill.
This all started innocently enough many years ago, as do most tragedy's. Newly married and finding it hard to say no to anything my bride might want, I agreed to her wish to add a 4 legged friend to our new family.
Skip ahead a few years and, "wouldn't it be nice to get Erin a puppy?" Of course it would! Time goes by, a Guinea pig here and there gets added and I find I have a hankering to watch "Green Acres" more than I used to.
More time goes by and the dirty tricks begin. As I come home from my 3 weeks at sea, my wife says she has to show me something. She walks me upstairs to my daughters room and she timidly steps out of her closet holding this little kitten in her arms. "Can't we keep her Daddy?"
Now that was a low blow. I just walked into the door after being away for weeks, how could I say no? My wife claims she had nothing to do with it. Yeah, right!
The hits just keep on coming as a few years ago I arrive home, again, and AGAIN, my wife says, "becareful when you walk in the bathroom." Uh oh.
When I open the door a half dozen little kitten rescues are staring up at me and I can hear (not really) them whimpering, "please keep me, let me stay."
Most were given away to families who wanted these cute little buggers. At one point there was only one kitten left, hiding behind the toilet bowl. When I suggested we should not lock the kitty up, by herself, in the bathroom, somehow when those words entered my wifes ears, she heard, "I want to keep this one all for myself." And to this day, she claims Sammy is my cat.
Sammy is one of the normal ones. I say this because, Katrina only has one eye. She looks like she's winking all the time.
Huck was shot in the elbow with a 22. I guess I don't know my neighbors as well as I thought.
Izzy has 2 eyes but is overweight, blind as a bat on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Rosie, while having a good soul, will track down and devour any food that is left unattended even for a few seconds. A popular refrain in our house is, "Watch my plate", as someone sets their plate down to get a drink. At that point the rest of the family is "on guard" knowing that Rosie is just a few sniffs away from scoring a plate load of food. She's been known to suck down an unattended 3 foot long cheese steak sandwich in a matter of seconds.
As my kids are getting older and slowly making the transition of moving out, I have a feeling I will never have to deal with the "empty nest" feeling people my age have to deal with.
This house is just too busy.