War and Peace

It has been exactly a year since I got Nina, my dog. She is a 3-year old yellow lab, and we are now interdependent habitually, physically, and emotionally. I am slightly uncomfortable when she is not with me. However, when I first got Nina, the peace negotiations between Nina and my cat, Bella, were touch-and-go for a few weeks. The first time Nina saw the cat, she freaked (they both did). For the first month or so, I blocked off my house at the midpoint – the cat had one half, the dog had the other half, and I had nothing.

During this month and a couple of subsequent months, I was like Jimmy Carter mediating between Sadat and Begin at Camp David. We sat at a round table and negotiated terms. Here is part of the transcript of these negotiations:

Bella: You are too big for this house.
Nina: Are you saying I’m fat?
Bella: I’m saying you’re too fat. You consume the human’s resources. You eat everything. And you’re slow and awkward. Your tail is a pendulum of destruction. We can’t even have visitors without you raising hell. You’re a threat to me and to the sanctity of this household.
Nina: The human wants to give me those resources. And do you know why?
Bella: Because he’s as dumb as you are?
Nina: No. Because I don’t strut around this house like I own it, I obey commands, and I actually like him. And by the way, you’re not exactly a model of fitness either, Ms. Gut Hangs to the Ground.
Bella: Oh please – go shit in the woods.
Nina: Oh, I’m sorry – we as a species have not yet evolved to shit in a tiny little box filled with sand. You’re SO advanced.
Bella: Its called litter, pea brain, and you would eat it if you had the chance.
Matt: I feel like we’re getting off track here. We were discussing household boundaries and the prospects for peace.
Bella: If you want peace, tell Chewbacca here to stop chasing me when I come in the room. As if it has a chance of catching me, too.
Nina: (calmly threatening) One day you’ll be off guard. You’ll be licking your fur like a disgusting animal, and I’ll be all over you like a cheap fucking suit.
Bella: You’re welcome to keep trying, Gigantor. Do you smell any fear coming from me right now, motherfucker?
Nina: I smell a small quadruped who is weak, alone, and clearly outmatched. I also smell ice cream coming from somewhere, but that’s beside the point.
Bella: Is this your theory of “survival of the fattest?”
Nina: Yeah, and you’re the test data, bitch.
Matt: OKAY, can we stop bickering like children and act like adults?
Bella: I’m two years old.
Nina: I’m three. (Both snicker.)
Matt: We had a treaty in principle. Now what do I have to do to put you two in this house in peace today?
Nina: I would request a long walk and a meal, but I’m getting those anyway.
Bella: I don’t need shit. Its Big Mama over there who is high maintenance.
Nina: Go get your catnip fix and scratch your post, you glorified rat.
Bella: Do you see, human? I can’t live with this thing. She snaps at a moment’s notice. She has no tact, no grace. She would eat me if she could move faster than a slug in cement. Its so unladylike.
Nina: Unladylike? Yeah – that’s a very modern, enlightened viewpoint. Females can’t be aggressive and confident?
Bella: Not when their doing so makes other living things bleed.
Matt: Well, maybe you’d both feel better about your lives if I took you down to the SPCA and put you both up for adoption.
Nina: I smell fear. Is that me?
Bella: The fear you smell is mine. The other disgusting shit you smell is you.
Nina: Maybe we work something out.
Bella: Oh, you love me already.

These tense negotiations went on for a few weeks. I tried to find common enemies for them, such as birds, other cats, and the vacuum cleaner. Eventually, we emerged, hands and paws clasped together, with a signed treaty. Now, today, they're companions. They sleep right next to each other in my bed every night. Three days ago, I saw Bella rubbing her head on Nina’s legs (marking her ‘territory’). To be honest, sometimes I feel like I'm the third wheel.