How My Dog and His Cat (Almost) Ruined His Marriage Proposal

This is the tale of my long-suffering husband, Bruce, and how his proposal of marriage was nearly ruined by my dog and his cat. In 2004, I was going to spend the weekend with him and spend some time with his daughters. On Christmas Eve morning, Bruce had to go to work until noon while I worked remotely from his house. His last words before he left were, “If the animals fight, let them. The cats (there were two at that time) can get away.”

I assured him I wouldn’t try to get between them. Around lunch time, however, Peanut Butter (the younger cat) took a harmless swipe at Sally’s nose and the game was on! I tried calmly talking to them, then yelling at them to quit it. They ignored me. Peanut Butter dashed up the stairs, but Sally trapped her on the landing, ready to smother Peanut Butter in kisses. The cat was NOT having it. So they tangled. And I….tried to intervene.

In the process, Peanut Butter clamped her teeth firmly in the fleshy area between my finger and thumb. “Ouch!” was an understatement. When I pried her off, she was gone like a shot to the basement. Sally sat stupidly on the landing, wagging her tail with glee. I was not amused. I cleaned the injured area of my hand as best I could, but they were deep puncture wounds. Within fifteen minutes, my hand started to swell. Soon it resembled Mickey Mouse’s hand more than my own. And I was feeling faint. I was afraid to drive, so I called my boyfriend’s teenage daughter. She came to pick me up and we went to the ER, where I got a tetanus shot, a broad-spectrum antibiotic, steroids and a lecture about cat bites being worse than dog bites. I was told to soak my hand in ice water between elevating it every twenty minutes.

It Always Happens This Way

After being escorted back to the house on shaky legs, I called my boyfriend and told him what had happened. He sounded worried, but I could hear the voice of others in the background. How annoying! (I later found out that two ladies at work were asking him, “Which hand got bit?” But more on that later.) Bruce said he’d be home asap, as I had one more prescription that was still being filled at the drugstore. He picked me up and we went to the drugstore together. I was wearing sweats, had an enormously swollen hand, makeup rings under my eyes from crying and felt like….crap. The first person we meet in the pharmacy? My boyfriend’s ex-wife. Dressed beautifully, perfectly made up. Ugh. I thought the night couldn’t get any worse, and it certainly didn’t look like it would get any better. Wrong on both counts.

Christmas with the Crank (That’s Me)

After my boyfriend got me settled on the couch with a pain pill and some ginger ale, he filled a large pan with ice water and put it on a towel on the end table, pressing me to, “Remember, the doctor said you have to keep soaking it and elevating it.”  Since I was feeling queasy and light-headed, I tried to remind myself that he was trying to be helpful. But after being reminded that he had told me to keep away from the pets and let them fight it out (really?), then being told every half-hour to put my swollen, tender hand back in the ice bath, I snapped. To be fair, I was still in a lot of pain. I asked Bruce why he was, “So *bleep*ing interested in my hand?”

Bruce sighed, then went to my Christmas stocking and quietly said, “I was going to give you this later this evening, but I think I should give this to you now.”  He pulled out a small, wrapped box. Oh man, I just KNEW what it was. I was right. I quickly tried to unwrap the box with my teeth and one good hand. Bruce tried with great chivalry to help me open the box but I smacked his hand away. (I know. You don’t have to say it.) When I opened the box, there was a beautiful diamond solitaire. Bruce asked me to marry him. Yes, ME; the blubbering, swollen, cranky, hot mess on his sofa!

We tried to get that ring on my finger (yes, it was my left hand, just like the ladies at Bruce’s office had feared.), but it wouldn’t even get past the first knuckle. So I cried. And cursed the cat. And cursed the dog. And cursed myself for trying to settle the cat and dog’s domestic dispute. And I said “Yes!”

We’ve been married twelve years and we still have Peanut Butter. Sadly, Sally has since passed away. But they were both instrumental in nearly ending what turned out to be an unforgettable proposal. We also eventually got the ring on my finger. It’s still there. I’ll never take it off again unless the situation is dire – I’m not taking any more chances!

Did your pet(s) nearly ruin a special occasion? Did your cat steal from your mother-in-law’s suitcase? Did your dog step in a can of paint and calmly walk all over the new hardwood floors? How did your pet or pets turn what should have been a special moment into a near-disaster? Share your stories, we’d love to hear them!