Our home is filled with problematic pets.

I begin with Eddy, our 8-year-old cat. He is still angry about Tonks, the kitten who joined our family last summer. I distinctly recall the shelter volunteer saying that a bit of animosity between the two cats was to be expected at first, but within a few weeks they would be curled up together purring contentedly.

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Ha!

Eddy has grown angrier by the day. He is mad at Tonks and frustrated with us. Why have we not taken care of this little orange interloper? In addition to having a hissy fit whenever he sees Tonks, Eddy is now using a preemptive hissing strategy. He spews his angry attitude as he walks down the hall even if Baby Kitty is nowhere near -- just in case he might be.

Speaking of Baby Kitty, when I last wrote about Tonks I shared with you how cute and cuddly he was. Shortly after I wrote that

column we learned he had ringworm -- as in "highly contagious fungus."

The vet buzz-cut the hair off half his face. My son said we should get him a little mask like the guy in "Phantom of the Opera." Hairless and infectious -- what a combination. I had to squirt a fish-scented concoction from an $82 bottle of medicine into his little kitty mouth twice a day, swab the

affected area with a topical solution twice a day and wash him once a week (Cats love to be bathed!) with a special anti-fungal shampoo for six weeks.

I am happy to report that little problem is behind us. Now Tonks has other issues. He has transformed from a cute, happy kitten to a fat, small cat who sometimes bites. He also has lost his spirit of adventure.

We used to take Tonks out in the backyard for a little outdoor fun. He loved it. He chased bugs, rustled through the ornamental grasses and launched himself out of an oak tree like a flying squirrel.

Then he entered his fearful stage. Now when I try to send him outside for a bit of fresh air and sunshine, he wants nothing of it. He stays on the patio next to the sliding glass door and cries to come in. If he gets really panicky he climbs all the way to the top of the screen door and hangs there like a yowling gecko.

Meanwhile, our easygoing flat-coated retriever Kanaka is recovering from a torn knee ligament. Yes, dogs have knees. That was an expensive, er, interesting aspect of canine anatomy that we learned after she blew her knee out chasing a group of birds.

For a while she was hopping around on three legs, which was challenging on the slick wood floor. I found her whimpering at the edge of the carpet at 2 a.m. the first night, afraid to journey across the wood floor to the door. So I created a trail of area rugs, artfully mixing in the rugs from the bathrooms, across the floor. Days went by before one of the kids asked: "Why are the rugs like that?" Like it might be some new approach to decorating that I was trying out.

Kanaka had surgery and is now back to using all four legs, although she's still not back to full speed.

Bad knee, bad attitude and freaked out. Those are our pets.

Did I expect that these creatures wouldn't come with problems? Of course not, they're pets. I figure if I don't expect them to be perfect, they won't expect me to be perfect.

Besides, if you allow unusual personalities packaged in fur into your life, you've got to expect a bit of upheaval. Things around our house would be kind of bland if Eddy, Tonks and Kanaka weren't around to shake things up. They provide us with a different view of the world (although that view is sometimes partially obscured by a cat hanging on the screen door).

Laura Christman's column runs every other week. She can be reached at lchristman@redding.com or 225-8222.