I got suckered into adopting a cat. Poor guy had been abandoned surely by some family who did not have careers in health care and foreclosed on their home. My friend convinced me that he was super mellow and that my 200 + pounds of dogs would get along with him. I certainly had my reservations. I have two bullmastiffs and the girl is quite reminiscent of Lennie from Of Mice and Men. She doesn’t mean to but just has a way of…well…playing too roughly. Many a small animal have turned left instead of right and met their untimely fate at the pads of her paws. I had these romantic visions of the cat sitting on my lap, purring, lazily sleeping while I thought big thoughts and wrote my dissertation.
After much convincing of my husband, I bring the cat home and after a slooooooooooooow introduction we decided it was time for Snack (that’s the cat’s name) to either sink or swim. He was going to have to figure out how to live with two big dogs (Tango and Cash) or find a new home. This is how it went: Morning three of dogs-meet-cat and they all congregate at the top of the stairs. I hang back a little to see it all go down because these are the options: a) cat fulfills the destiny of his name or b) they all curl up together and take a nap. Something in between those two happened and well, Snack headbutted Cash, rubbed up against her and Cash looked up at me as if to say, “Man, this cat has some audacity!” From then on they were fast friends…
I thought this was indicative of many nursing experiences I’ve had. You see the big dog, walk right up to it, and head butt it. Sometimes, that’s the only way to get things done! My next blog, I will tell you a personal head butting story to (hopefully) inspire all those nervous new grads out there. Now get out there and save some lives…