"Paws And Claws" or our life with our four legged friends

Author: Iain Mavin
Word Count: 4526
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PAWS AND CLAWS

Why is it you are never fully prepared for the shock of living with wild animals especially the pride of tigers that we ended up with. Imagine the scene of two people living in a small one bedroomed upper flat in Washington not DC – UK and happily getting on with their lives and below them in the ground floor flat live an eldery couple.
The council housed us there to keep an eye on them, part of the caring in the community program I suppose. Jane and I had just got married, both of us for the second time. Jane was working for the local authority in the Police station and I was doing part time taxi driving, after finishing in the Police Force two years previously. I had resigned after being injured on duty and had to find some sort of income until I could find a permanent job. As the taxi work was mostly at the weekends I had plenty of time on my hands.
The couple downstairs were both infirm, one having had a heart attack and the other awaiting a double hip replacement. Their children had then decided that they needed exercise and had got them a small puppy. This was the start of MY troubles. The old man wasn’t up to walking a boisterous puppy so old muggings here offers to walk their dog, a right mixed up mongrel part collie part, German shepherd, part idiot, all legs and pee. Downstairs called him “Mick” we ended up calling him “Thicket” because he is or does a great impersonation of an idiot at times. Mind you he hasn’t yet started walking backwards wagging its head! (Apologies to Jasper Carrott and Biffer)
After a few weeks of being taken for walks and being deposited back downstairs he got fed up with not knowing who was looking after him, he decided to move in with Jane and I. This caused no problems for downstairs, as they said he was happier with, us and we could look after him better. The only problem was Thicket himself. He had never been upstairs before. I had always gone down for, taken him out for his walk, and taken him back to the flat downstairs. The day he took over our lives he had to negotiate the stairs. You could see it in his face “ I want to go with you but how do I get up this wall what is it?” We stood half way up the stairs and called to him, the first step was all right could do that, front paws on the step but now what? If I lift my back legs there’s nowhere for them to go and if I move my front legs my belly hits the ground. How is it tall things can manage to go up this on two legs and I can’t manage it with four! HELP!!! Unfortunately we couldn’t, because by this time we were in hysterics watching an animal trying to stand on it’s back legs and walk like a human up the stairs. Eventually Jane went down and helped, placing his legs on the stairs and gently moving each leg in turn until he got the idea. Once he got to the top he discovered a new problem, doors hurt when you walk into them.
Downstairs always had them open for safety, we kept ours shut for warmth. So, having hurt ones nose and all the doors now open one decided to christen the hall, lounge, kitchen, walls, in fact anything that didn’t move and something’s that did. This brought about a new sensation. Ones scruff of the neck was grabbed and the still hurting nose was pushed unceremoniously pushed into the smelly yellow puddle that one had just made, a loud voice screamed in one ear and so in panic deposited yet another puddle! I was trying not to laugh; Jane had Thicket and was telling him off while he was piddling on her shoes. He couldn’t run away, well he could but the stairs were still a problem He knew how to go up now but down? Forget it, he would rather go and piddle against a wall. Eventually he learnt how to go downstairs without imitating a bag of spanners being thrown down them. He did occasionally end up in a heap at the bottom when his back legs decided to go first but at least the front door stopped him rolling into the garden. After a couple of weeks and patience from Jane he was fine, housetrained and able to go up and down stairs like he he’d been doing it all his life. But he would show his displeasure if Jane and I went out and left him behind. He would leave a small (well, at times not so small) smelly brown pile just by the door for you to walk into when we came back. We were taking Thicket to Jane’s parents for the first time when I realised how much trouble having a dog could be and how much they can embarrass you. I was all for leaving him on the motorway. Firstly we had to teach him about going in a car. This was fun! He looked at this box with wheels and watered them. When the back door was opened he took one look and decided to walk, not that the car is a mess mind you. I had even put one of his dog blankets in the back to make him feel at home. Jane lifted him in and he sat down, we thought great, both of us then got in and shut the doors. He looked around as if to say, “I’m trapped.”
Then I started the engine. This was Thickets cue to go daft leaping about, trying to get onto Jane’s knee She calmed him down, and he eventually settled down. So now it was time to actually move and his to turn into a Tasmanian Devil (a demented one at that) His rug the car doors and rear seat ended up looking like the aftermath of a clothes stall at the local jumble sale. After a few minutes he realised nothing was hurting him and in fact it was rather good watching the scenery go past without expending any energy. This kept him amused for all of five minutes before he fell asleep as if he had been travelling in cars for ages.
On the day we were going to Jane’s parents we had taken Thicket for a long walk so he could do all the necessary business and be knackered for the journey. He did sleep all the way and when we got to West Auckland took him for another short walk, just in case he needed to go. Arriving at Jane’s Mum and Dad’s didn’t faze him at all. We said how good he was, housetrained by Jane, learning his new name and that he now lived up some stairs which he had learnt to go up and down in his own fashion.Thicket must have been listening to all this and thought ‘I’ll show you” because as we sat down for lunch; leaving Thicket in the lounge (his table manners weren’t yet up to scratch knife and fork not yet mastered) he deposited a huge brown pile. When we discovered this I could have died of embarrassment after all we had said about his training. Not only had he contradicted us but also where he had performed was a brand new rug!! Fortunately Peggy and Frank were very understanding saying he was only six months old and very good considering. Mind you Jane and I were still thinking maybe taking Thicket wasn’t such a good idea. But he could get round us be lying on the floor and look at each of us in turn just by moving his eyes. It was like watching “Nookie Bear”
Training Thicket was an experience to be missed (at times). This animal must be the only one who liked playing with an apple and run away from a tennis ball. He loved eating carrots, wasn’t keen on dog food but loved cat food as we later found out. His first winter was interesting, he’d never seen snow or autumn leaves. He would chase snowflakes and try to eat them but couldn’t understand why they disappeared and made your tongue cold but stuck to your face and fur. Leaves were better as you can dive into them and they fall off when you shake, do that with snow and ones eyes froze and teeth stung. He used to catch snowballs and chew them until all he had was a mouth full of water. He would play for hours in the snow if we let him. He was only a medium sized mutt but he would grow to the size of the Abominable snowman in ten minutes. Unfortunately this creature would shrink back to normal in front of the fire leaving a very large puddle (well, lake) on the floor, so we used to put him in the bath and let him drip dry, and he loved to go for walks in the rain, told you he was daft but one time it was worth it.

JONES
One night I was about to take Thicket for his last walk bedtime, not the final walk, when the monsoon season decided to start, it absolutely threw it down in buckets with howling gales. I thought about just opening the door and pushing him out into the fields that backed onto the flats but he looked at me as if to say “I’m not going out there unless you go as well, I’ve got to get wet and so are you “ Fortunately the fields were surrounded by trees so I stood under them while he went about his business. I didn’t think it was possible but as I stood there the rain got heavier and numbnuts was running around thoroughly enjoying himself. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the field and just stood looking down into the long grass. I shouted at him to come back and go home he just stayed there. So muggings would have to go over to him and drag him back on his lead. I looked up at the rain teeming down and thought to myself “Bugger this, if he wants to stay out in this he can I’m not going to get even more wet getting him”
I shouted again but of course he ignored me, so, cursing him waded into what was now a paddy field to him. As I got closer I could see he was standing by a small soggy cardboard box, sniffing all over it.
I said “If you have dragged me all the way out here just to watch you pee on this box I’ll kill you.”
He looked up at me and back at the box. I took out his lead and bent down to put it on him when he backed away from me and went to the other side of the box. I was totally soaked by now and not in a very good mood. Being out in a torrential downpour was not my idea of a good night out, getting the inside of my throat wet at a rock music club was. So I leant down to show this crazy canine there was nothing in this box for him to play with or eat, as I opened the box (not taking the money) Thicket’s head went straight into it I pulled him to one side and to my amazement found a very small and very wet ball of black and white fluff surrounded by newspaper. Thickets’ head once more went into the box and sniffed this ball of fluff, which to my shock moved. So I carefully lifted out a pathetic looking, wet and definitely upset kitten and put it inside my coat. I thought “Jane’s not going to believe this.”
I started back to the flat with Thicket in close attendance in fact if he could get inside my coat with the kitten he would. We got back inside and I called to Jane to take Thicket and dry him. I squelched up the stairs into the lounge and lifted out my surprise package. The kitten took one look around and dived back into my armpit. Jane came in with a dog towel and a soggy Thicket she looked at me and said “You’re supposed to walk him you know not teach him to swim”
I said, “You know how Thicket looks like a St. Bernard in the snow? Well I think he’s just made his first rescue.” With that I reached into my coat and pulled out the kitten and most of my shirt where the kitten’s claws had embedded themselves as well as into me. By now the kitten had realised it was nice and warm in my coat and was doing it’s utmost to get back inside Jane looked at it and went “Ahh (all gooey like), The kitten went “Ah!!”, Thicket barked and I went “Ah Ow” as the kitten once more disappeared into my coat and dug it’s claws in me again.
I thought “That’s gratitude for you” The kitten was now squirming around to try and peek out of my coat, Thicket jumped up to have a closer look and pushed me into an armchair he now was at the same level as the kitten and leaned towards it big mistake, he hadn’t seen a kitten before and didn’t know they came armed, his nose was too close, a paw flashed out and smacked him on it. He leapt back in shock. You could see it in his face “ I’ve just found you in a box in the middle of a field. in the middle of a downpour and this is how you say thanks” He went across to Jane looking for sympathy and to get dry but not before another look at the kitten as if to say “I’ll let you off with that one but just wait !”
We got Thicket dried and into the bedroom so we could check over the new arrival. I just drip-dried on the carpet I hadn’t got a dog towel. Looking over the kitten we didn’t find any injuries and discovered it was a boy (I used to watch All creatures grunt and smell you learn a lot from these programs) I looked at Jane “Well, do we keep him or not?’ Jane is one thing if not indecisive “Yes we do”. See, told you. We agreed that if anyone put a kitten in a box in the middle of a field they had no intention of keeping it. Now we had to sort out food, bed, toilet, name and Thicket. Food was a tin of tuna, bed – one of my jumpers in a small cardboard box with the side cut away for access, toilet – an old seed tray lined with newspaper, until tomorrow when we could get all the things we needed to bring up a small bundle of fun! The name was quite easy actually; we’d just seen “Alien” and the cat in the film was called Jones. Mind you, he was ginger and ours was black and white, but what the hell, no one will notice the difference and if we can call our dog Thicket it should be expected of us.
The kitten, sorry, Jones was now out of my coat and on the floor exploring his new domain putting his head into everything, under chairs, inside waste bins and paper racks. Thicket by now was getting a little peeved being shut in the bedroom so we carefully let him out and holding onto him took him into the lounge Jones had now found a large ornamental pot and was attempting to get inside it he saw Thicket and vanished inside. A few seconds later this little black and white face reappeared, and stared at Thicket. Thicket slowly went towards Jones. There was a Mexican stand off for a moment then Thicket licked Jones’s face, Jones’ eyes went wide and a taloned paw replaced his face Thicket leapt back out of harms way and looked at us and then back at the pot then to us again as if to say “Shit, did you see that? Its fast isn’t it?” Jones appeared again and looked at Thicket. “Try that again dog and I’ll have you for breakfast’. We looked at each other and thought, “What have we done?” When we looked back Thicket was standing by the pot and now wearing Jones, he was hanging of Thicket’s head using his claws as anchors in Thicket’s.fur and wrapped round his just like the face hugger in “Alien” so maybe naming him Jones wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Jones soon settled down and we were pleased when the vet gave him a clean bill of health but did say if he hadn’t been found that night it might have been a different story.
Back home Thicket became Mother. Jones loved it, in fact he started to act like Thicket. Thick’ had a habit of lying on his back on the settee and going to sleep, Jones saw this and thought that’s a good idea and did the same. Some friends came over one evening so we shut the gruesome twosome in the bedroom until we had finished eating. I went to fetch them and when I opened the door I saw eight legs in the air and two animals lying on the bed, heads on the pillows, looking at me.
One day we came back from shopping to find Jones walking round the kitchen with a tin of Heinz tomato soup on his head! We had discovered that he liked it after putting an almost empty bowl down on the floor and Jones was lapping it up before I could stand up to take it into the kitchen. We took the tin off his head and there was a ring of tomato soup all round his face unfortunately his tongue wasn’t long enough to reach all of the soup but Thicket helped to wash it off, one lick from him and Jones’s face was spotless but a trifle moist.
Then came the day of Jones’s visit to the vet for the “snip”. We had decided to have him done for several reasons, stop him spraying, wandering and being a stud in general. We had borrowed my parent’s cat box to transport him, this was to cause problems. They had a Siamese called Yindee who did nothing except talk, eat, talk, sleep and talk. You could phone them and hear Yindee in the background talking non-stop. If anyone has heard a Siamese talking you’ll know what I’m on about. Jones wasn’t happy about being put into this strange box that smelt of another cat. A small melee broke out as two adults attempted to put a muttering bulk into the box. Eventually after much swearing, scratching, bleeding and yowls we won. We planned to drop Jones at the vets and spend the time waiting for him at my parents. We were also taking Thicket for the first time to meet them. We hadn’t taken him before as they had just lost their dog through old age and we hadn’t wanted to upset them. It was as we set off I realised that Jones had never been in a car before. We soon found out he didn’t like it! He tried to eat his way out of a plastic box, I’ll give him his due he had a good attempt. When he discovered he couldn’t get out started to yowl. I never knew so much noise could come out of such a small body. We raced to the vet to get this howling banshee out as quickly as possible After chatting to the vet and asking if it was possible to remove Jones’ voice as well, we set off to my parents until it was time to collect “ The siren of Washington”. As we arrived at my parents I had an attack of De ja vue, but I thought lightning doesn’t strike twice does C. We three got to the front door and I rang the doorbell this confused Thicket, as we don’t have one, doorbell that is, we have a front door that stops Thicket after he falls down the stairs. My mother came to greet us and that is when it all went horrible. She saw Thicket and screamed “Oh isn’t he gorgeous”
At this there was an instant puddle of piddle followed by a tail between the legs and an attempt to get back into the car dragging me with him. As you know human anatomy does not allow fingers to be bent backwards very far so I yelled,
Thicket yelped and Jane caught Thicket. Eventually we got into the house with me trying to straighten out my digits and Jane taking Thicket by the collar into the lounge where my father adopted him or was it the other way round ? They were so taken with each other we had to remind them that we were there. Now came the moment of truth, the meeting of Thicket and Yindee! Yindee’s domain was the kitchen which he ruled with sharp claws and teeth or so he thought, Thicket came in and went up to him as he sat on a chair and washed his face, stepped back as one long front leg with claws extended reach out for him along with a growl that would put a tiger to shame. Yindee did not appreciate the attention or actions being carried out by a dog, a strange one at that. So the inevitable happened. We had a dog with a clawed nose and a Siamese lavatory brush chasing him round the kitchen. I was taking bets as to who would win when Thicket ran into the hall and Dad grabbed Yindee. When things calmed down and the Siamese fighting cat was quiet we carefully introduced them again, Yindee just sniffed the air and ignored Thicket for the rest of the day. When it was time to leave and collect Jones, Thicket was escorted to the door by Yindee as if to say “Go on, sod off, and don’t come back” Actually as they got to know each other over the years they got to be quite good friends if that’s possible when they didn’t live together.
At the vets Jones was waiting in his cage looking sorry for himself. When Jane saw where the anaesthetic had made his eyes run and thought he was crying because he knew what the vet had done to his bits. I replied that if she didn’t want to see him cry I could have done it with only two bricks and two sore thumbs for no cost. I got hit for some reason. Then I started to cry when I saw the bill.
Time passed and we discovered Jones had a real character. I made homebrew lager and was having a quiet pint in front of the Saturday afternoon sports when I felt a presence on the arm of the chair I was sitting in. I looked round and saw Jones watching the bubbles rising up in the glass and sniffing the top of the lager. As the bubbles burst they would go up his nose and he would wrinkle up his face like a baby being force fed prunes or grapefruit. But, as l was drinking it so would he. I put some in a saucer for him and he lapped it up three saucerfuls later he staggered sideways across the floor to his bed and went straight to sleep, I didn’t think it was that strong. After half an hour’s kip he was up and standing by the saucer again l was wondering if they have an alcoholics anonymous for piddled pussies.? I gave him a tiny drop more and Thicket came in to see what Jones was drinking. He was too late, it had already gone. He sniffed Jones to find out what it had been when Jones fell over. Thicket looked at me “I never touched him it wasn’t me, I wasn’t near him ref.” Jones staggered to his feet and lurched off sideways into the coffee table legs I picked him up and put him in his box. He stayed in there asleep for four hours I wanted to know if he’d got a hangover when he woke up in the morning.
Jane was doing some washing in the kitchen one day when she called me in to look at Jones. He had jumped up onto the draining board and was standing in the sink watching the water drip from the hoses attached to the taps. He could not understand where the water was coming from or going to. He tried to catch the drops but they stuck to his paws and had to be shaken off. So, he put his face under the taps and got a drop in the eye he didn’t like that so sat down. Now he had a wet tail and bottom, this was not on so he jumped out of the sink. This is where his problems really started. Jane had a twin tub washing machine and kept a bucket of water with fabric conditioner on the floor for the rinse cycle, and yes you’ve guessed, straight into the bucket. I’ll let you into a secret, cats and fabric conditioner make a volatile mixture we were soaked but not as much as Jones mind you, he smelt of Alpine Fresh for days.
Summer arrived and with it that strange allergy called gardener’s backache. I was digging over our postage stamp of a garden when Thicket decided to help. I was digging and planting, Thicket was digging and un planting behind me. I would turn around and see two front feet and muzzle covered in soil with a bedraggled plant hanging from his grinning mouth. This grin would disappear and the plant spat out as if it was never there and he would run to the other side of the garden. He waited until I was almost to him when he would sprint past me back to the original spot and wait for me again. This state of affairs would go on until I was too knackered to continue. He would then fertilise the garden, go back upstairs, and fall asleep in my chair. I would spend the next hour or so clearing up, replanting the remains of his excavations, remove his fertiliser and continue planting seedlings. l would finish just in time for him to arrive for round two. It’s amazing to think that anything actually lasted long enough in the garden to flower but we eventually ended up with quite a nice patch of colour (sometimes).