I have never been welcoming to other dogs. My mom was mine, and I didn’t want to share her with another animal, so I made myself look angrier than my resting face projected and kept them at bay.
I did get to meet dogs during my mortal life. The most significant number of them I met simultaneously was at Laura’s house. I have been lucky to meet them there, including Wishbone, Pokey, Toby, and Bentley the Westie. When we got an invitation to go to his house, which he shared with his brother Winston, I was very excited to see him again.
When we got to his lovely lake house I began barking aggressively because there was a cat in the front yard. I was getting ready to chase it when Foley stopped me and said that the cat’s name was Isabelle, and after 20 years of devoted service to Bentley’s mom, she recently arrived at the Bridge and moved into the house with her brothers.
This was a problem. While I could begrudgingly get along with dogs I drew the line at cats. I had been tormented by Ugly Joan, the cat who lived under our steps, for years. I thought, when I passed, that I would no longer have to tolerate the kitties. I had not imagined they would be living in my town.
Pocket told me when she first crossed the Bridge that she didn’t trust cats either, but now some were her best friends. Foley followed up by stating she has learned to tolerate cats and has been to many of their welcoming parties. The whole system was breaking down. But, I said I would be nice to Isabella for the sake of our hosts.
Bently and Winston welcomed us into their home. It was lovely, and we soon fell into an easy conversation. Isabella came in and jumped on the couch, it startled me, and I barked, and my sisters gestured for me to be quiet.
I tried to ignore it, but wouldn’t you know, because we were both Bridge rookies, Isabelle and I sat together at the end of the table. I was very uncomfortable and kept my head down, even when Isabella asked me to pass the fish.
While the others regaled with tall tales of their mortal life, I heard Isabellasigh. I turned and saw there was a tear in her eye. I wanted to ignore it, but I was raised properly and asked what was wrong.
She told me she missed her mom, and I discovered we had something important in common. We soon fell into an easy conversation about our combined sorrow over being new angels, and before I knew it, we had talked for two hours, and it was time to go home.
Isabella said I could come by and talk to her about our transitioning to be angels any time, and I told her I would like it. On the walk home, my sister kidded me about being a cat lover, I insisted I was not, and Isabelle was an exception to my rule about not liking cats.
But, I was getting there, and I could envision the day I overcame my prejudices and accepted cats like my sisters.
As long as they don’t sleep under my porch.