Close to Nowhere
• There are many differences in many things in this old world. One of the biggest differences is that between men and women. Sunday at my house, that difference was so evident with my two great-grandchildren. Shepard, the nearly 3-year-old, is all boy. Rough and tumble, wiping off kisses, very macho-type fellow (how do little boys get that way?).
Ruby June, 1-year-old, is a very typical little girl – very, very girly, even at her age. (How do they get that way?) We’re wondering what kind of throwback genes she has as she’s so different from the rest of us. She doesn’t like dogs at all. She’s afraid of the kitten, although Sunday she did touch him and pronounce him “soft.”
Shepard loves to ride the four-wheeler. He’s pretty sure if they look hard enough that he’ll find a monster living in my woods. He’s desperate to find a monster to play with.
Sunday, Merideth and Tim, oldest granddaughter and her husband, piled both kids up on the four-wheeler with them and proceeded very slowly down the path to the woods. RJ hated it! It was too loud and there was too much “stuff” out there. Mere sat her down in the grass in daughter Dana’s (and now grandmother Dana – I don’t have children old enough to be grandparents) front yard and she wouldn’t even sit. She squatted a bit then stood up and just stood there being miserable. There’s dirt outside! And she wanted no part of any of it.
Dana and son Kris grew up in the dirt (so did I actually). Mere and younger sister Remy grew up in the dirt and horse pens with all our dogs and cats and occasional goats, etc.
We can’t figure out where RJ comes from. And we’re really having to adjust to having a real girly-girl in the family. She’s going to grow up and be queen, as she’s started out as a delicate princess.
• As varied as the differences in male and female, the difference in cats and dogs is way out there. I have an older fat, lazy dog and about a 3-month-old kitten. Both males. Both your typical cat and dog types.
Teddy is a good dog. He loves me, as his human and feeder, and always wants to be with me in the same room. He’s content to play with his rope toy, his squeaky bone or his squeaky pig. And, of course, nap. He’s your normal sweet dog.
The cat, on the other hand, is a typical cat. Crazy. He makes terrible messes wherever he goes. Nothing is safe, least of all me. I am his bed and his chew toy. If I’m sitting, I’m his bed. If I’m moving, I’m his chew toy. I can’t walk because he’s in between and around my feet. I can’t eat because he wants to share (he gets put in the other room now at mealtime).
He’s just like every other cat I’ve ever had (I love cats; I’ve had a bunch). Totally insane!