i will not play at tug 'o war
i'd rather play at hug 'o war
where everyone hugs
instead of tugs,
where everyone giggles
and rolls on the rug
where everyone kisses
and everyone grins,
and everyone cuddles,
and everyone wings.

--shel silverstein--



This actually wasn't the Shel Silverstein poem I was going to include on my blog first. It was going to be 'Where The Sidewalk Ends', which is one of my all-time favorites, but that one can be saved for a later date. There is a matter--something honorable--that I have on my mind tonight. As you may have guessed from the above picture, I live with animals. 2 dogs and a cat, to be exact: the playful sweet standoffish little prince Max, the crazy little black bad thing Luna, and the big fun police cuddle monster bear Gwen. When I moved in with the bro and SIL last year (almost one year ago!), we were all concerned and uber cautious about the relationship between Gwen and Max--me most of all. Gwen is not known for her...tolerance...of kitty cats. Understandably--I mean, she *is* a dog and most cats *are* less than pleasant to their canine counterparts, but we were determined to make it work. Sharing a house in a great neighborhood was going to be a good (cheaper, more fun) option to two apartments in crappy parts of town, and my bro and SIL were understanding and sensitive to the delicate balance between Max and Gwen that they let M and I have the master bedroom while they took one of the smaller ones, so that he could stay in it during the day while G was a-roamin and a-ramblin.

Animal wise, it has been an interesting year. The first time we introduced Luna and Max, she sniffed him and he hissed at her, then proceeded to smack her nose; the first time we introduced Gwen and Max, he hid and she was working so hard to control her inner CHASE!!! reaction that she was trembling. There were a few times that I didn't close the door the whole way, or communication breakdowns happened and G and M were out and about in the house at the same time, and once or twice we did some supervised visitations that mainly consisted of Gwen lying on the guest bed with her back to the world and Max sitting in the doorway of my bedroom on guard. That was most of March to November. We made it work! Everyone was happy...healthy...not terribly scarred emotionally by living under the same roof with a member of the opposite species.

Then November came...and with November came the "YOU MUST MOVE" letter--and suddenly we were staring down the barrel of the holidays, three people working full or part time, one of us facing finals, one of us pulling overtime, and one of us desperately looking for a full time job. So, we hit the ground running (seriously? Don't mess with a paramedic, an EMT/ER tech, and a stage manager when it comes to pressurized situations.) and moved to our new place in...9 days. It was pretty epic. If I do say so myself. And with that move came a new arrangement for living, where we all have more space and have rooms on separate floors. The complication for me and M came with the fact that the basement wasn't intended as a bedroom, so no door on it. I spent 3 days (I know, I know) building a barricade affectionately known as 'The Battlements', which served it's purpose for quite a while. But over time as the basement became darker during the day and we all got used to our new house, a funny thing happened. Max began climbing the Battlements! Up and over--my bro has a fondness for yelling "it's coming over the wall!!" every time he hears my cat making a break for it. Gwen and Lu, well they've both mellowed. Quite a bit. And when we moved together, Gwen really began to look at me as a member of her pack. Her tribe. I was no longer just a visitor or an outsider, but now I'm seen as part of her pack. She listens to me more, protects me just as she would the bro and SIL, snuggles with me just the same. She has softened, shown her gentle side along with her fun police-able side, greets me at the door with a huge doggy grin.

As the animals have mellowed out, the Battlements have slowly become less and less useful. Wonderful as a door at night, but not so necessary during the day. Until one evening when my human family members were working, I found myself sitting on the couch snuggled with Luna, only to realize I hadn't seen Gwen or Max for a while. I checked the guest room--nope. Then the office, where my bro's college couch, also known as Gwen's favorite spot, is, and there was Gwen on her end, snoot tucked in to tail, dreaming doggy dreams. And there, on the other end of the couch, was Max! Snoot tucked in to tail, dreaming kit-cat dreams. Amazing. As you can see from above it was a sweet and, for those of us who've known Gwen and loved her for a long time, completely unbelievable. Since then, about two weeks ago, peace has settled over our little kingdom. The SIL went into the office to study one day and found Gwen and Max sacked out once again. I have ended up snuggled on the couch with Lu, Max, and Gwen more than once. Lu and Max were sharing a sunbeam the other day. In short, a treaty has been made. And from a year ago, when they were hissing and slapping and barking and disliking each other, our four-legged family members have worked themselves into a friendship.

So maybe I'm thinking there's a lesson we can learn from them. If Gwen and Max can not only coexist peacefully, but share couches and water bowls and backyards and really live together, then maybe we could each learn to work with someone who is so different from us. Maybe what they can teach me is that, sometimes, it take a lot of time to overcome those differences but that it can happen. Maybe what they can teach me is that it's possible to have fun with someone from another world, or get comfort from a person of another country or culture. This isn't making much sense, I know, but in my quest to see the little pockets of good in my everyday world, I am struck with a calm tonight knowing that Gwen, Luna, and Max have made their peace. If they can, why not me?

Then again...maybe a sunbeam is just a sunbeam. Either way? In my house we're winning at hug-o-war.