Augustus, our newest family member:
He’s a three month old who was surrendered to our local vet two weeks ago. Gus came complete with bed, scratching post, sharp kitten teeth and the attention span of a…well, kitten. He’s adjusting well and so are the dogs. Three hours into his arrival and they’re already treating each other as though they’ve been together for years: the dogs are avoiding all eye contact and Gus is running around like it’s his house.
His entry into my life has, strangely enough, tempered the psycho judgemental feelings I was having about Michael Vick. Like Gus, Vick was once a child and someone neglected to teach him right from wrong, respect for animals. It doesn’t excuse his behavior, and I still hope he gets as much jail time as possible, but somehow, remembering he was once a kid who hungered for boundaries, for someone to say, “No, Mike. Leave that dog alone” has taken my rage. I’m still disturbed by what he did, but I no longer wish for someone to force him to watch George W. Bush clips for the rest of his life.
