Roommates

The roommate sent Abe a text and asked what was going to happen when I moved in to their house. I guess to her it was not a matter of "if" but "when" after I took a couple of sick days last week and puttered around their house instead of going home.

Abraham told her that he was okay with whatever she decided to do. If she decided to stay, her rent would be lowered and I would take over my portion of the bills.

"I like having her here and the place is plenty big for the three of us," she wrote. And when she found out that everything would be cheaper, she was ready for me to break my lease today.

Abraham gave her my move-in date. Everybody was happy with the arrangement. Three adults and two dogs living in harmony. Well, almost.

The only tension in the house is between the two dogs. Specifically, from the roommate's lap dog toward my big, lumbering Femme Fatale.

In my experience, the Femme Fatale doesn't care about little dogs. She could take them or leave them. When they bark and chomp at her, she holds her head back and peers at them, almost amused. She doesn't engage because she knows they aren't a threat.

That isn't to say the two dogs haven't squabbled. They have. I'm of the philosophy to let the dogs figure it out on their own to establish a domination order. But ever since the squabble, her dog has steered clear of the Femme Fatale. Won't get within 5 feet of her. The Femme Fatale hasn't realized this. She walked into the roommate's room and laid down and took a nap with them. When it was time for the roommate and her dog to leave, she called to her dog, who was cut off from the rest of the room by the Femme Fatale. Instead of walking by her, she jumped on a couch, then to the bed, and from the bed she jumped to her master. I don't think the Femme Fatale woke up.

Minutes after the conversation about me moving in, the roommate couldn't find her dog. She called to her without response. She searched the rooms for her. As a last resort, she walked into Abraham's room. Behind the bed laid the Femme Fatale, as was her habit during the day. And next to her under Abraham's bed was the roommate's dog. The roommate assumed her dog was trapped again and scooped her up. A few minutes later the dog was missing again. The roommate again found her sleeping next to the Femme Fatale under the bed. They had become besties.

The roommate has given her approval. The dogs gave their approvals. It feels official. I'm ready for the next six months.

I like that we took our time to arrive to this decision. I like that we made the decision to live together and then extended it by six months. Our decision isn't based on time or money or roommates. It's based on one thing: our desire to be together.