Ever since she could remember Cristina had always wanted a pet; however, due to her busy life, she was unable to afford the luxury of having a furry fluffy companion by her side.
Her teaching job was demanding and required every single cell of her body to be present. Her retirement followed by a quick trip to Dubai answered a lot of her wishes, starting with owning a rescue cat.
A few months ago, in Dubai, her rescue cat's dear old tail had been infected with shrapnel and bullets from a nearby explosion. Although he tried to move on from the accident as though it had never happened, eventually he had to get his tail removed in order to prevent further infection.
The owner cared deeply for him and managed to persuade him into undergoing the operation for his own good.
This made him very sad since like any self-respecting feline he emoted through his tail; without it, he was for all intents and purposes mute. Thankfully his owner helped him to communicate through facial expressions, paw movements, and meowing. She also took the opportunity to rechristen him 'Puss'.
It was not completely flawless (occasionally Puss meowed a little too loud or he sprang a nerve in his delicate paw from wiggling it about) but it certainly was better than nothing, that's for sure. Plus, his owner was always there by his side, no matter what and for that Puss would cherish her forevermore.
One sunny day Puss the white cat and Ivan the fat cat went on a walk to the park with their doggy friend Adolf (despite her name she was not related to the infamous German dictator).
His friend Ivan was very pudgy ever since he took up binge-eating as a professional hobby of his. In fact he was so fat that there was no way to tell where his fur began and his face ended; essentially he looked like an overweight fuzz-ball of cuteness and love. On that note his real name was Fatty but due to political correctness he was called by his respectable nickname Ivan in public.
Only his nearest and dearest could call him Fatty, mainly because Ivan knew that they wouldn't laugh at his admittedly silly name. Not that it influenced his eating habits, of course. If it involved food then Ivan was there; why, he didn't even mind eating the odd apple or two.
Adolf was a very strange dog, mainly due to her unfortunate name. Her small moustache was all the proof society needed to label her as the second coming of der Fuhrer and a member of the infamous group starting with the letter 'N'. Thank goodness that she wasn't a fan of the history channel otherwise she would've met her distant relative in all his vehement racist glory.
Mind you I have to admire the owner's bravery for naming her dog after this peculiar fellow. In fact, I have a feeling that her name had an ulterior motive as a chat up line with the other dog owners at the park.
Every time Adolf's name was shouted the owner had to explain her reason for choosing Adolf's name to the other naive dog owners who'd turn their heads around at the mentioning of the forbidden word.
Why I bet that as long as Adolf's by her side she will never be short of meeting men, wink wink nudge nudge you know.
Living with these three odd pets with very distinct personalities is anything but easy; one loves running (Puss), the other loves eating (Ivan/Fatty) and the third one needs constant attention or else she will throw a tantrum (Adolf).
Despite all the pains and struggles that the owner goes through, if you asked her she would have gladly said that she cannot imagine living without these bundles of joy.