I’m practicing to be Mimi.
Before the rumors get started, no, my daughter-in-law is NOT having a baby — yet. I do have a new granddog — an 8-pound bouncing Pomchi named Zorro.
My son promised his new wife that as part of her wedding present, she could get a dog. So, she found a little rescue dog for adoption in Northwest Arkansas, and his name was Gulliver. He is supposedly a cross between a Pomeranian and a Chihuahua. After going through several names, they settled on Zorro. He’s kind of an FLD — funny-looking dog — but he’s cute. Sometimes he reminds me of a fox with his bushy tail; sometimes the way he stretches his neck, he looks like a meerkat.
He dances on his back legs, which is the Pomeranian in him, so my dog-lover friends tell me.
I remember when my husband and I were first married 27 years ago, and we found a stray cat that we kept. We had friends we regularly socialized with, and when they would talk about their son, we would talk about our cat. Looking back, I realize how stupid it was, but that’s all we had to offer. (“Brandon is potty training,” they’d say. “Shoe always uses his litter box!” we’d brag.) We called ourselves Momma and Daddy to the cat. We practiced our parenting skills. (“It’s your turn to let him out.” “Can you take Shoe to the vet tomorrow?”)
When we had our firstborn son 25 years ago, we got it. Not really the same as a pet.
Now that our older son’s married, he’s going through the pre-parenting stages. They already had a cat, which he dotes on. One day when I was at his house and hadn’t seen him for a while, he walked in from work and his first words were, “Where’s Mia?”
Even though I cat-sat, I haven’t bonded with her as much as her “brother,” and I like cats. She doesn’t really have a warm-and-fuzzy personality.
We have a 20-pound cat (hey, he’s lost 2 pounds on his diet), and he’s not too thrilled about the addition to the family. He hisses, but it doesn’t really faze Zorro.
It is amazing how granddogs will change you. I’ve been staunchly against animals sleeping in our bed, and we keep our door closed at night so the cat can’t get in. The first night Zorro spent the night with us, we let him sleep in our bed. He went underneath the covers, down to the foot of the bed, and slept that way all night.
I started referring to myself as Mimi, and my daughter-in-law gave my husband the name Pop Pop. Mimi is a spoiler.
Our animals know I’m a treat-giver. Our cat walks right past my husband to meow at me for treats; the dog barks to get in his kennel at night because he knows I’ll throw in a handful of treats. My husband gives him one.
I used doggie biscuits to teach Zorro to sit, which he does by doing a little curtsy, with one skinny leg tucked under the other at an angle. Now, he doesn’t even wait for me to say, “Sit.” He just automatically gets in the position when I walk near him.
My son and daughter-in-law brought Zorro over with them to watch the Super Bowl, and he pranced and bounced from one piece of furniture to another (the same furniture I yell at the cat for getting on). When he tried to eat Super Bowl snacks off our plates, my daughter-in-law yelled at him, and my son mentioned how stressful it was.
“We have different parenting styles,” she said. “He has to learn.” Yes, the dog, and my son.
That’s something to work out now, because these are the easy years.
One of these days, it’s gonna get real.
Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.