Explaining Hamilton ( the dog) to Gus ( the cat)

Anyone who has a cat for a pet is familiar with the canard that cats are the superior species to us humans. Having married a cat person and consequently having had several cats as pets I can provide first hand validation of this curious phenomena of nature. Call it God's joke. Actually I think our cats view our household as a circus with the cats as the ringmasters, my wife and I as the trained acts and our dog as the clown.

At the time we were planning to adopt Hamilton our cat household consisted of two black & white cats we had adopted from the Cat Practice in Chelsea several years ago. They had been adopted to be companions for our Maine Coon mix whom we had also adopted from the Cat Practice. Unfortunately Woodrow, the Maine Coon mix, had passed away before we brought Hamilton into our lives. The other two cats, Augustus ( aka Gus) and Daphne had never known any housemates other than their own species. OK, we have fish too, but the cats don't even notice them, which is a separate story.

When Woodrow was alive he ruled the roost. We joked that it was his reign. He was the ruler of our pride. Fortunately Woodrow was a benevolent ruler who shared his food and treats, at least a little, and adored Gus, his best friend. After Woodrow died, by birth order as we knew it, we decided that we had now entered the reign of Augustus. Augustus was more tyrannical. Consequently, Daphne finally rebelled and began to shun Gus, hissing anytime he came anywhere near her space which in our modest apartment was frequent.

We thought Gus would embrace having a new friend, even a dog friend. He sincerely seemed lonely without Woodrow. I actually took time to try to explain this to Gus, reaffirming the circus analogy. He in turn was much more interested in the treats I was feeding him. I presumed a dog was too much of an abstraction for him and he would better grasp the situation when we brought Hamilton home from the shelter. Grasp it he did and he did not like it. What good was it to be ruler if the subjects can willy nilly interject a smelly, whining clump of fur into his world. Already his sister won't tolerate him, his best friend has disappeared and now he has a creature he cannot understand or communicate with who, heaven forbid, might be intending to use the litter box. No worry there of course with a puppy.

If there was one miscalculation in our adopting Hamilton, the relationship between him and Gus would be it.