Introduction

Before I launch into the myriad moments of insanity a la Dr. Doolittle that occur regularly in my house, I will give you some background on the characters that live here.  To wit, there are five humans and five animals, all warm-blooded at the moment.  We are missing the tortoise who escaped at the beginning of the summer, but that is another story.  The humans consist of my husband and I and our three children, all teenagers as of next month (so far I remain unmedicated, but I question that frequently).  The animals who tolerate us are:  Hank the black lab, Charlie the corgi, Sugar the cat, Sky the parakeet, and Cocoa the bunny.  We also own two horses, but they don’t live with us, much to my daughter’s chagrin.  I would add more here, but Hank’s stomach is growling so loudly for his breakfast that I can’t concentrate.

To continue, I have decided to write a blog about my family and our animals because these creatures have given me many moments of lightness in a rather dark few years, and they deserve highlighting.  Also I came to realize that not everyone lives as we do, that our house is considered a petting zoo by most of the people who know us.  I’m now convinced the kids’ friends come over so often because they’re getting animal therapy.  But even strangers are startled at the sheer number of pets that congregate in the kitchen.  One rather taciturn plumber arrived recently and the dogs hurtled themselves at his legs, slavering for attention, nearly tripping him.  As he rounded the corner, beating off the dogs, he saw the rabbit cage and his eyes widened.  I watched his gaze swivel around the kitchen and spy the cat sitting on the table.  She was ignoring everybody,

staring out the window at the robins on the lawn, the end of her tail twitching.  The bird was deafening us with her squawking so I could barely hear him mutter, “Christ, there’s an animal around every corner!”