Oh dear, you all are bringing memories.
A long time ago, in a land far away, I married this lovely woman who came with a 16yr old daughter as part of the package. Two of her high school besties were living in an abusivie situation so we took them in. Per Social Services it was only a temporary situation while they found apropriate housing. Three weeks they said, which turned into 3 years.
Soon after came the younger siblings of the two besties, a total of 5 little ones under the age of 10. And with them came a whole parade of hamsters, gerbils, turtles, one garden snake, three rabbits, fish, ant farms, dogs and cats.
We had indoor cats, and heaven help the poor soul who let an indoor cat get out because all the little humans would go tumbling after it to try and get it back inside. We had outdoor cats, and it was worse to accidentaly let one get inside because the cat-catching-chaos would then ocurr inside the house instead of in the back yard. Cats can climb up curtains, but children can not. They bring the curtains down.
And we had cats that were allowed in or out as they pleased, and you were accused of being mean if you did not open doors as the cats requested.
I could never remember which cats belonged in which category, so I was always in trouble. I still think they switched them on me every so often just to mess with me
No, we had no doggie-doors. That proved to be a worthless experiment because only the children used them.
All this activity, and animal food, atracted a lot of possums to the garbage bins. But they were declared "cute", and I was tasked with building little possum-houses for them out in the side yard. Where they would get in fights with the outdoor cats. Some coons took residence up the orange tree, and would sneak into the attic, and get into fights with the bats that had decided to sneak in thru the same hole the coons had found.
Then we had a family of skunks move in under the wood pile. And one of the dogs got stuck in there trying to get at them, and 2 of the little ones went in to save the dog. Tomato juice does ok on human skin, but it does nothing to remove the smell from clothes. Or dogs. Or wood piles.
Social Services was ok with all the children, but Animal Control was not so understanding about the critters. So we had to get a license, which somehow got us listed with the local veterinarians, who then started sending us dogs and cats that people had found lost on the street but nobody had claimed. I was spending every weekend buying used plywood and building more and more critter-houses.
Oh yes, every critter had a name, and the relevant name had to be stenciled on each plywood box. Dogs would get old blankets to have in their boxes, cats got old towels, possums had bedsheets, and by morning all that linen would be all over the property, and every critter had switched boxes and nobody was sleeping where they were supposed to.
Except for the indoor cats, which slept at the foot of the bed under the covers and were far more efficient at waking you up in the morning than the alarm clock. Don't get me started on the 100-lb boxers that darling step daughter decided to raise because whe was going to be a veterinarian when she grew up.
I was saved when the two older girls went off to college, daughter got married, social services found placement for the little ones and a porcupine dropped in to see what all the fuss was about. He cleared out the wood pile family as well as the possums. The kids took all of the cats and dogs and miscelaneous fauna with them. We saved enough money on animal food to have the house fumigated.
Then some pigeons started nesting under the eaves.
We sold the place and moved to the suburbs.
Mike
