I have always been a cat person. That’s all we ever had growing up. Other friends and family had dogs that I loved to play with, but we were always away form home, busy with school and work and travel that my parents knew we were not a good fit for a dog that would need much more attention than our cats. Cats are good at keeping themselves occupied, and not needing to be checked on daily.
During college and part of grad school, I had no pets at all. Due to my living arrangements, the only thing my roomates and I managed to take care of was a rat my psych major friend took home from her rat lab instead of having it get fed to the snake at the zoo. It was an “illegal” rat, as the house we lived in had a no pets rule, but it was easy enough to hide the cage if the landlord had to stop by.
It was a cute rat, and would roll around the living room in one of those giant hamster balls, but it wasn’t super cuddly. I missed snuggling with my cats. So when I got my own apartment in grad school and saw I could have a pet, I went straight to the shelter and picked out a soft, short-haried black cat named Velvet. Whose name I quickly changed to Maya. And for the next 6 years, Maya was my lone furry buddy. She liked to sleep on top of my head on the pillow. She would bat at my face at the crack of dawn to wake me up for breakfast. She liked to sit on the back of the couch and chatter at the birds in the tree outside the window. Life was good. I had my cat, my (reluctant) snuggles – Maya was not much of lap cat unless forced – , and my ride-or-die buddy.
Two years into my post-graduate research, living in a new state, I managed to find myself a dog. It was not planned. If anything, it was kismet, and I had no choice in the matter. Fate chose for me. And I don’t regret it one little bit. It’s now almost 12 years later, and that damn dog means more to me than I ever could have imagined.
I came into the lab one day, Sienna sitting in the corner at her desk. She turned around and asked “does anyone want a dog?”
“What? When did you guys get another dog?” They already had two tiny terrier/whippet mixes, Lucy and Leo. And a cat. They were not in the market for a new pet.
“We found this dog running around the neighborhood. No chip, no collar, and pretty close to going into heat.”
“Oh, poor thing! But no, I’m not looking for a dog. I don’t think I’m a good fit for one.”
“Well, if you know of anyone. Look, here’s a picture. We’re calling her Honey right now. I’m trying to get her into a rescue group, but I think we’re going to have to keep fostering her until they find her a home. We do have one family coming over soon to meet her and see if it will work out.”
“Good luck with that! I’m sure Lucy and Leo will love the company for now.”
I thought that was it. My knowledge of the dog would end there and they would find her a good home. It was a big problem in the South, stray dogs. I had already dealt with finding a stray, sweetheart of a pitbull on the side of the road that I had to take to a shelter. There were just too many, but I was perfectly happy with Maya. She ran the house, and I was OK with that.
A few weeks later, Sienna and her husband, Avery, were having a Fourth of July party. All of the lab was there, plus other post-docs and assorted plus ones. We were eating, chatting, and gearing up to set off a plethora of fireworks from the driveway once it become dark. I took a seat in one of the many chairs littering the living room, balancing a plate of snacks on my lap. Lucy and Leo were sprinting around, feeding off the energy and begging for bites of food. We all knew better than to give in, but they still tried. As I was bringing a bbq sauce-covered meatball to my mouth, I felt a soft, wet push against my thigh. Looking down, I saw the darkest brown eyes staring up at me from the sweetest face. Mostly white fur with caramel patches. One ear standing up at attention, the other bent over.
“Oh, you met Honey!” Sienna smiled. “Isn’t she the sweetest? That family that came by to meet her didn’t work out. She didn’t want anything to do with them. She doesn’t want anything to do with most people, it seems.”
“Then why did she come over to me?” I put my meatball back down and reached out to scratch between the softest ears I’d ever felt. Honey tilted her head, seemingly leaning against my palm. Those damn chocolate eyes reeling me in.
“Don’t know. But you’re the first person she’s felt comfortable enough to approach.”
“She’s definitely cute, I’m still not looking for a dog.” I gave one more scratch between her ears, then picked my meatball back up to eat. Honey, seeing that I was done with the scratching, wandered away, following Sienna back into the kitchen. About 10 minutes later, she came back to me in the chair and sat down in front of me. The same ear was still sticking straight up.
“Hey, you. I don’t have any food for you.” I leaned forward to pet her this time. She took that as a signal to move closer and rest her head on my lap. Again, those dark brown eyes stared. It was like she was trying to communicate with me, letting me see into her soul. This dog was dangerous. Dangerous to my repeated statements of I don’t need a dog. This dog, however, was trying her best to make me rethink that position.
This was how the rest of the night went. Honey would stare at me for a bit, letting me pet her as she leaned against my legs or rested her head in my lap. Then she would wander the house and make a lap. Lather, rinse, repeat. All night. Around the fifth time she made this circuit, Sienna came up to me, laughing.
“I think you just adopted yourself a dog.”
“What?!” I looked at her, eyes wide.
“You are the only person she’s paying attention to. She keeps coming back. It’s kismet. You now have a dog. Congratulations.” Her blue eyes danced with laughter as she saw my head shake.
“I can’t just take a dog. I have Maya to think about. I’m not bringing in a new pet if Maya is not on board.”
“Ahhh, look at you. The I don’t want a dog person’s walls are crumbling. I have an idea for that. We can bring Honey by next weekend for the day. You can introduce her to Maya and see how they get along. If it goes well, we can talk about you adopting her for real.” Sienna looked hopeful. They really wanted Honey to find a good home, and since we were friends, she knew I wasn’t going to take bringing in a new pet lightly. If I did it, I was going to be all in.
Was I all in? Did I want a dog? I mean, when I was younger I did, but as I got older I realized my parents’ reasons for not having one are valid. They are a lot more effort than cats. Less independent teenager, more clingy toddler. I could toss last-minute trips out the window. Anytime I left, I would have to consider the time gone, and if I needed to get a kennel reservation. And the extra vet fees. And the extra effort on my end to make sure the dog got exercise (especially since I lived in an apartment and didn’t have a yard). Oh, and the training! The dog was mostly housebroken, but would still need a lot of training.
My mind was swimming. But when I looked back down at her deep brown eyes, her faint head tilt, and that damn single ear sticking straight up in the air, the last of my excuses evaporated.
“OK. If the cat doesn’t absolutely hate her, I think I can do it. Bring her by next weekend.” Sienna just grinned, nodded, and walked off. Honey stayed and put her snout on my leg again. Damn her adorable cuteness. I drew a single finger down her soft nose and sighed. My life was about to get turned completely upside down.
“You better behave Maya,” I grumbled at the cat as I paced my living room the next Saturday morning. She just stared at me and turned back to cleaning herself. Not phased in the least. I heard the hard rap of a fist at the door. “They’re here, behave.” I muttered at Maya again. Not like she could understand me. I opened the door and smiled at Sienna, her hands full of leash and toys. Honey was turning in circles by her feet and when she caught sight of me, began to wag her tail rapidly, like she was trying to turn it into a propeller and fly toward my open door.
“Hi sweet Honey girl,” I sang out as I leaned down to pet her, her feet doing a tippy-tap dance as she stuck her head forward to give my cheek a big lick. I reached for her leash and let Sienna step inside as I closed up the door behind us. Maya looked over from her perch on the back of the couch. She looked interested in the new visitor, but didn’t move or hiss. OK, that’s a good start, I thought as I led Sieena to put the toys down on the floor by the fireplace.
“Any instructions?” I asked, not sure if I was ready to unleash the new houseguest just yet.
“Nope. I would keep her on leash for a bit until you feel more comfortable, and at least until she and the cat meet officially. I have some errands to run near here, and plan to come back later this afternoon around 3 to pick her up. If anything happens before then, call and I can come sooner.” She turned, her blue eyes taking in my nervous fidgeting. “You’ll both be fine. Honey is pretty chill, and she already likes you. I’m not worried in the least” she said, pulling her long auburn hair back and tying it up into a ponytail. Grabbing her purse, she headed back for my front door. “Have fun!”
She left, door closing behind her. I looked down at the dog at my feet. Honey was staring back up at me with what passed as a goofy grin, tongue loling out of her mouth and tail flicking back and forth across the carpet. At least she seemed happy to be here. Maya still hadn’t moved from the couch, but I think it was more due to the fact that Honey hadn’t quite noticed her yet.
“OK pup, let’s give you a tour of the place.” I led her around the living area, poked into the bedrooms, and then out to the patio. Once we made a lap around the apartment, I shut the bedroom and bathroom doors (less places to escape and hide in) and finally unclipped her leash. She immediately flopped onto the floor and rolled over, her fluffy belly showing. I reached down to rub at it, amazed at how quickly I was becoming completely in love with this dog. The dog I never wanted in the first place.
“It’s your turn now Maya, let’s see what you think about our possible new roommate.” I leaned over the back of the couch to pick up the cat, holding her close as I folded my legs and sat down on the carpet near Honey, who was amusing herself by rolling back and forth with a squeaky toy in her mouth and paws. Maya got squirmy as we moved closer to the dog. But she didn’t scratch or claw or anything. She stayed quiet, if resistant to getting any nearer to Honey. At this point, Honey finally noticed that the cat was coming closer, and she jumped up and came over to sniff. At this Maya hissed briefly, and Honey immediately backed away.
This is promising. No immediate bloodshed, I thought. Honey tried again to get closer to sniff, but Maya swung out a paw and bopped her on the nose. Again, Honey retreated immediately, this time sitting down on her haunches and huffing softly at the cat. I let Maya go, and she ran back to the couch, getting back to her high perch. Honey started to run after, but Maya again hissed briefly, then stayed on her cushion throne. There was no barking, no yowling, and other than some warning hisses, things were actually going OK. I probably wasn’t introducing them in the most preferred manner, but their individual temperaments seemed to work with the situation. I decided to mostly ignore Maya, and spend time on the floor playing with Honey, tossing toys and petting her. The cat stayed separate, but didn’t go hide anywhere. I had a feeling that these two would end up just mostly ignoring each other. As long as no one got in the way, they could co-exist. And Maya wouldn’t be afraid to bop Honey on the nose if she got too excited.
The rest of the day I spent my time playing and walking Honey, and keeping a watchful eye on Maya. But they maintained their separation. Same room was fine, but if Honey got on the couch, Maya would move. If Maya was in one area of the room, Honey would skirt the edges of that space and find somewhere else to sniff. I think this might actually work. Damnit. I had no more excuses for saying no to the dog. She was mine. She knew it, I knew it, and Maya was fine with it as long as everyone remembered that she was queen of the castle and we were just her servants.
“So…” Sienna looked at me, eyebrow raised and voice lilting up in a question.
“So, I think I’d like to adopt Honey. She and Maya aren’t immediate buddies, but they respectfully keep their distance from each other and seem like they could at least co-exist in the same place without too much effort.” I glanced over at the dog, who had decided to curl up on the couch and take a nap, happily chasing phantom squirrels in her dreams. Maya was napping on her window ledge, pointedly ignoring all of us. Sienna clapped her hands and jumped up and down on her toes, ponytail swinging wildly, a huge grin taking up her entire face.
“Yay! I KNEW IT! You two were meant for each other, I swear. Kismet. It is kismet.” I roll my eyes at her over-the-top enthusiasm. At the sound of her clapping, Honey had startled awake and jumped off the couch, coming over to us and sniffing like we had something fun for her to play with. Or eat. I had learned quickly during the day this this dog was highly food motivated. Sienna reached down to grasp Honey’s face in her hands, smooshing her jowls together and getting nose to nose. “You are going to be such a happy dog here. And you can still come visit me and Lucy and Leo. Ya’ll will still be able to play together.” She gave Honey another squeeze and stood back up.
“OK, so, I’ll take her back home with me tonight, and give you a few days to get together all the supplies you’ll need. I suggest a wire crate, a bed, and probably a new leash and some toys. She likes things that squeak. I’ll text you the food that she’s eating right now so you can find that. Gah! I’m so happy for you both!”
“I think right now you’re more excited than I am.” I smile and shake my head, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Only because I know how much this is going to change your life for the better. You live next to the best park, it’s literally right over the fence. You take good care of Maya, so I know you’ll be good for Honey. And you can always call me if you have questions. We definitely need to make dog play dates for Honey and Lucy and Leo. The all really get along.” She clips Honey’s leash to her collar and heads for the door. When they step outside, I lean down to give Honey one last scratch behind her perpetually stuck-up ear.
“How about we plan for Friday to bring her back? That way I have time to go shopping, and then I have the whole weekend to get her settle before having to go back to work and be away all day?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Sienna and Honey head off. Honey keeps looking back at me, hopeful. I wave and turn to go back inside. Maya yawns, stretches, and jumps off her window ledge. Curling around my legs, she rubs up against my ankles. I reach down to pick her up, ignoring her minor squirming protest.
“Well Maya, we’re getting a new roommate. I don’t care if you never become friends, but at least behave.” I nuzzle at her soft fur before putting her back down on the floor. Looking around my apartment, I realize how much is going to change once Honey is here for real. A whole new set of responsibilities is about to fall into my lap, and I am not sure that I’m prepared for it.
It’s finally cold in Texas. I swear, there are no actual seasons here. It’s either hot, humid, or rainy. Or all three at once (those are real fun days). Occasionally we have a moment where it is none of the above, and I relish those days where I can curl up on the couch with a fluffy blanket, a cup of cocoa, and a good book.
On this particular cold, overcast day, I am nestled into the corner of the couch, said cocoa and book in hand, enjoying a Sunday with absolutely no responsibilities. The sofa is a small sectional, and I am on one end and at the other side, where the L-shape sticks out, Honey is curled up in a ball, her head on a pillow, snoring softly and twitching her paws. Must be chasing dream squirrels again. We are over a decade past her adoption day. At times it feels like it was yesterday, and at times it feels like she has always been a part of my life. This dog is velcro. She’s clingy, but friendly. She is my constant shadow. Seriously, I move an inch and Honey pops up and follows me around, even if I’m just going to refill a glass of water. I have a ride-or-die that loves food, sniffing everything, eating grass, and always napping on my bed rather than hers. She’s accumulating more white hairs, but still has energy and loves to play and run around with zoomies.
I reach over and give her a pat on the belly, softly running my fingers through her fur. This damn dog. A dog I never thought I wanted is now one of the beings I love most in the world. This whole thing is a classic case of never say never. Because you may be surprised at what can happen when you end up saying yes.
And maybe some things really are just kismet.
scijessreads 
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