I'm house-sitting at the moment and with the house come two golden retrievers and six cats (don't ask). The dogs were easy to make friends with but the cats have taken a little time. The most skittish of the tribe, an orange ruffian with the beginnings of cataracts in its eyes, is just starting to accept me. I've always had far more amicable relations with animals than I do with humans.
As for the house, that's another story. This house is like the one that Tyler and Cornelius (Rupert, Jack, etc.) occupy in Fight Club. It's like an old mans lungs - it fills with the moisture of the mountain air, and it rattles and wheezes with any change in temperature. In certain parts of the house I can see strips of daylight coming through the floorboards; those nice airy vents also let in the freezing cold air. The shower hadn't been used in some time; when I first turned its taps it vomited forth a Bombay-esque deluge.
All in all the house suits the mood I've been in for the last month or so.