CHAPTER NINE PREPARING FOR THE HOMECOMING—A PLATE TOO FULL (35TH installment, Scruggs and Samantha, by Mary de la Pena)

CHAPTER NINE

PREPARING FOR THE HOMECOMING—A PLATE TOO FULL

(35^TH installment, Scruggs and Samantha, by Mary de la Pena)

The day that my new dog and new kitten were to come home was a blur of activity for me as I tried to balance my law practice with the demands of bringing two new animals into my home.  My calendar of appearances had me going to two different courthouses in two different counties. At each appearance I was jittery and anxious to be done quickly. I wanted to finish being a lawyer for a while so I could enjoy the thrill of bringing a new dog and kitten into our house. 

In preparation of Scruggs’s and Samantha’s homecoming I still needed to buy a collar and leash for Scruggs and prepare a safe place for them both to recover from their respective surgeries.  I was afraid the general anesthesia would leave both animals disoriented and fragile when they first got home, and I was especially concerned for little Samantha.

The tiny black kitten was small enough to hold in the palm of my hand.  And, while I knew the shelter said they would not perform surgery if she wasn’t at least two pounds, I was almost positive that two pounds of cherries had more heft than she did.  I also worried about her actual age. Upon closer inspection I realized her copper-colored eyes were a blending of baby blue and yellowish green.  It was a sure sign she was probably less than six weeks old, more likely closer to five.  With her tiny size and delicate condition, I knew from experience she would need extra care and nursing.

Of course Scruggs presented problems of his own.  I was almost certain that if he was the street dog we presumed he was, he would not be housebroken.  This would require effort and attention to him as he learned what to expect in our household. 

Besides the individual demands presented by Samantha and Scruggs, bringing any new animal into a home was a challenge.  I knew it was a heavy responsibility and one that needed to be handled with care.  It was not enough to simply want an animal and bring it home; rather, it was important to establish a ritual to introduce the new pets to the already established environment.  I knew some planning needed to go into the process.   More than anything, I knew in my heart that any dog, cat, bird, or other pet was not a disposable accessory to be brought out or put away depending on the mood of their owner—or, worse yet, discarded like an unwanted toy when they no longer brought pleasure to the owner.

As anxious as I was to complete my court appearances, everything seemed to conspire against me that day.  I fretted as a routine felony arraignment that should have taken five minutes instead took a half hour.  Traffic was horrible when I drove to the next court, turning a thirty-minute drive into almost an hour.  Then I was left to twiddle my thumbs for more than an hour at a misdemeanor pretrial in which the deputy district attorney could not be found to handle my case.  It seemed that everywhere I stepped that morning I was met with the quicksand of overcrowded courts snaring me and pulling me under.  Finally, at a few minutes before noon, I was able to walk out the door of the courthouse of my last appearance.  I knew I was needed at the office, but I had errands to run to make the house ready for the new adoptees.

Rushing to my car, my phone rang.  As I started to juggle it to my ear, I could see from the caller ID that it was Prince Charming.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Just now getting done,” I answered.

“You been to the pet store yet?” he asked.

I felt my shoulders hunch as tension tightened my neck.  My eyes squinted and my voice got tight.  “Not yet,” I said, grinding my teeth.

Silence.

I took a breath and continued.  “I got held up in court today.  Everything took longer than expected.”

“You coming in today?” he asked.

I closed my eyes, picturing the pile of work sitting on my desk requiring my attention. If I spent at least four hours of uninterrupted time I could probably get most of the work cut in half.  But at the office there was no such thing as uninterrupted time.  The same well-meaning secretary, who assaulted me with messages as soon as I walked in the door, was the same one who did not understand a closed door to my office meant I was not to be interrupted.  She would routinely pass the calls straight through to me without first finding out if she could help the client herself.  The thought of going to the office dampened any joy I felt at the thought of bringing Scruggs and Samantha home.

As my law partner waited for my answer, I felt my shoulders and neck tighten.  My familiar headache returned as I weighed my options.  I was needed at the office, but I also needed to prepare the house for the animals.  If I went directly to the office, there was always the chance I would not get free to do what needed to be done at the house.

As the silence hung between the two of us I finally made a decision.  “Listen,” I said.  “Let me just run over to the pet store and get the few things we need for Scruggs and Samantha, then I’ll be in.”

“You want lunch?” he asked.

“No, just let me run the errands,” I said.

“You need to eat,” he said.

I look back on it now and know he was trying to be kind, but with the state of cold war between the prince and me I wasn’t ready to give him any grace.  I immediately jumped to the defensive.

“And just when do I have time to eat?” I growled.  “I have too much to do.  It never ends, does it?  The more I do, the more all of you expect.  I have a secretary who won’t type my work because she expects me to do my own typing.  You expect me to do all your motion work.  And I am expected to meet with clients.  Just when do I have time to also do the ‘wifey’ things that need to be done?”  By then my head of steam had reached a point that I wanted to kick at the tires of my car.  But I had already tried that trick, leaving a large black smudge across a new pair of camel-colored boots instead of releasing my angst.  I was left to stamp my feet like a four-year-old.

From the silence on the other end of the phone, I assumed Prince Charming was counting to ten, maybe even more, given the silence hanging between us.

Finally, he responded.  “Okay, just run your errands.  Then, please, check with me when you get done.”

I was left with nothing to say. I snapped my phone shut without even a good-bye, knowing Prince Charming hated it when I hung up on him.  But, by then I didn’t care.