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For most of my life I carried the view that pets were just that - pets. These days my view has changed. My mother has charged me with a small degree of anthropomorphism when it comes to Eli Mongrel. She might be right. I feel as if we share a kinship that surpasses any other relationship I have had with an animal. He is first and foremost his momma's boy but there is definitely something special between us. Or, so I think. Eli might just be playing me like the fool I have become treating a pet more like and offspring than what he truly is...a pet.

Some amazing animals have been in my life. My first pet was a crotchety old tabby cat I called Joey after the children's book that I think was called 'Hop Along Joey.' Joey was the baddest cat on the block to come out of the Baltimore suburbs. When my family moved to the Eastern Shore Joey stood her ground against any and every dog that wandered into our yard. They only nosed in close once then they skittered off with their tail between their legs. That cat was amazingly tough but amazingly sweet as well. I was the only one that could picker her up.

My favorite Joey memory was when she had a liter of kittens under the blanket we shared one summer evening. I woke up hearing a bunch of mewing then realized there was a lot of stuff going on down by my feet. I called out for mom who came in and found Joey cleaning the eight kittens she has just birthed. Mom told me she went to the place that she trusted was the safest. I thought that was pretty cool after I got over being grossed out.

Throughout my teenage years there was always a lab or two in the house. Then an old girlfriend told me that labs were boring so I bought a Husky from some farm in Warrenton, Virginia to impress her. I was not mature enough to handle the full responsibility of solo pet ownership. Poor Janie ran off and was run over on Route 3 in Fredericksburg, Virginia. I learned a hard lesson about responsibility.

As it turns out my interaction with Huskies was not over. Another friend found a Husky on her family's horse farm and had to get rid of it. This dog was beautiful and they wanted to keep her but she always escaped and ended up chasing the horses trying to grab one for supper. This is how Sophie came to be part of my family.

My parents had no desire to be co-owners of Sophie. She had been a stray for some time and it took forever to get acclimated to life inside of a house. She was incredibly beautiful. I have yet to see another Husky that is her equal. She was the Helen of Troy of the dog world and she knew it. Whether she would stand on the glass-top table and preen on the porch in Oxford or come home in the back of Maxwell's police car, Sophie knew she could get away with murder. That Husky was something else. She came very close to transitioning from pet to kin. Mom still misses her and so do I.

I also miss Crazy Puss. CP was the cat I took over when my grandmother went into an assisted-living facility. I have known some wild cats that could fight but I have never seen one burst through a screened-in porch to go after another cat. CP's other great feat was surviving an attack from a Great Horned Owl. That poor cat had a divot taken out of the top of his head that looked like somebody and drilled straight down with a 1/4 inch bit. He never complained once. I finally took him to the vet when an abscess started growing out form under his left eyelid. That was a tough cat. He finally fell ill to cancer and had to be put down while I was working on a movie in South Carolina. Mom said he went down like a true original gangsta.

Then comes Eli...I have to give it to Gracie for researching through all the dog breeds and picking out a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon. Eli is officially her dog but I have sort of snaked him away. At first I couldn't stand this whiny wuss who would pee if you looked at him wrong. Getting him to pee outside instead of the living room or the bedroom or the kitchen proved to be a very long process. I swore he had Down's Syndrome. He just might.

Eli and I first bonded when Gracie took Arthur to Westminster. I had to watch him for 4 days while she was in New York. I was worried that he would just whine and cry the whole time because that is what he had been doing even when she was around. He cried a few moments right when she closed the door but then I made him bacon and eggs. The smell of bacon fat took his mind off the fact that his momma was on her way to the airport. After he ate we went on a long walk all around the Gold Coast of Chicago. We had a blast. The bond began and has grown stronger every day. Eli and I are cemented together for life.

Diaz a day and one half later. Under Dr. Diaz's care Eli has slowly become much of his old self. The steroids have fattened him up and he lets Gracie put medicine in his ears without incident or whining. I missed my baby boy; it's good to see him back.

Caring for Eli felt like parenting and that is why I am feeling so odd. Life was put on hold as we cared for the Mongrel to help him through his struggle. He had to go out every two to three hours because of what all the medicine was doing to his system. After watching his episodes we didn't want to leave him alone. If he had been in a crate when one of the episodes hit he would have come out of it a bloody mess due to how violent his reactions were trying to fight the pain he suffered.

After going through all this it is hard to think of Eli as just a pet. We are just at the point of trying to bring back the discipline of walking properly on the leash, not eating a treat every five seconds, and going back to regular dog food. I don't know how he is going to handle eating kibble when he has been getting chicken breast, rice, and sweet potatoes for the last week. He looks great with all the new weight. I juts hope I can get him back to the life...a dog's life that is.