Can you be a cat AND a dog person?

So we did it, in the space of three weeks I’ve become Dr. Doolittle. As I type these words I have the wide, floppy paw of our eleven week old Labrador draped across my right arm. Blissfully unaware that he’s impeding my ability to write these loving words. He’s snoring away here. A low, almost human noise that is comforting and adorable to me. I felt true love in an instant when I met Mike yesterday. I actually cried. He was just divine. I’ve been living with an extra shadow since, much to the disappointment of Craig, who has already admitted at this very early stage that the dog is clearly smitten with me. Curled up at my feet or sprawled across my being, it has been the most love filled 24hours of my life.

Then we have the cats. Well the kittens. They have been in our lives for three weeks now; Frasier, Niles and Daphne. Three little girls that were accidentally named before we knew they were three little girls. They’re terribly cute, very clean and great fun. They each have their own little personality. We have picked our favourite, fluffy Daphne. But even on their most doting of days they just haven’t taken to us the same way that the dog has.

Niles in particular, we haven’t even heard the faintest purr from yet, this breaks my heart. She just watches with judgemental eyes as we try to bribe the love out of her sisters with treats.

It’s true what they say; you’re either a cat or a dog person. I have spent the last three weeks doing my utmost to become a cat person. Assuming that it was just my lack of exposure to cats, I’ve given my all in the last three weeks to take the form of a cat lady. I let them in to hang out with us, I cuddle them as much as they’ll let me, and I allowed them to chase Toby around the house and vice versa. But whatever progress I thought I was making in this department has just evaporated with the arrival of Mike. Dogs are just affectionate, needy, loving creatures. And that’s what I need. I don’t want independent pets. I want ones that can’t live without me, as self-absorbed as that sounds. Toby has stopped giving big long loves and cuddles, enter stage right Mike. Rolls of puppy fat, wrapped up in white fluff ready to chew everything in sight and it doesn’t bother me. I’m in love. Toby better watch out or the number one spot in this lady’s life could be in jeopardy. Craig has also conceded that he is no longer number one or two, and some days he’s six after the cats depending on my mood.

Look, either way I’m an animal person. With chickens on the way very soon and the prospect of adopting a donkey on the horizon, it’s fair to say that this place will be like a petting zoo in no time. The joys of moving to West Cork I guess. But will I ever be a cat person? Can you be both? I never thought I would be a baby person and now I love one. Who knows? They might grow on me. Toby is obsessed with his “kitties”, Mike is included in this description as he has yet to figure out that he’s in any way different, oh to see the world through children’s eyes… and nothing beats his little face in the mornings when he remembers they’re downstairs.

Final thought: Fill your house with babies and animals. You will never be sad, but you will be broke and smell like pee.

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