I never realized that when we adopted a shaggy mongrel puppy or when I caved in and brought home that tiny, little kitten from the shelter that my life would become a Disney movie.
I am Snow White. I am Cinderella. I am Amy Adams in “Enchanted.” The animals are my friends. The cat follows me into the bathroom and sits in rapt attention while I unfurl the toilet paper and brush my teeth. The dog trails me from room to room – up and down the stairs. He licks the dirty dishes that I load into the dishwasher – a thoughtful, but not very helpful gesture. He watches me while I fold the laundry and I almost expect woodland creatures to scamper through the windows and make the bed or bluebirds to come perch on my shoulder and help me pick out my outfit for work. Alas, we live in suburbia where the only woodland creatures we have are squirrels. Once, one did get into the house, raced around in a panic and pulled down the drapes in the living room.
Harris caught it in a Hav-a-Hart trap and escorted it to a better neighborhood with nicer window treatments.
Just now, the goldfish practically jumped out of their tank for joy when I came into the room. It’s just like that song by The Carpenters: “Why do birds suddenly appear…every time you are near?”
Okay, so maybe my life is more Hitchcock than Disney.