I dropped my bag into the chair, hung my coat on the invisible hook, and walked mindlessly into the dark kitchen. A collision with the unexpectedly wide-open pantry door startled me to attention. I mumbled angrily and massaged my wounded forehead. With my next step, I slipped in something crunchy on the floor and nearly landed flat on my back. When I finally got the light on, a confusing site met me. It looked like a crime scene.

A box of empty Milk Bones dangled from a shelf in the pantry, a single remaining treat about to drop. The shelf below hung out of place, attached only by a corner prong, and the food items that had once been stacked neatly on it were now scattered on the ground. The crunchy sound beneath me was a selection of cat treats dumped from the shredded bag that littered the kitchen floor.

As I surveyed the damage, I noticed six sets of eyes watching. Before I could move, my dog jumped up, nabbed the dangling bone, and raced off. One of the cats flipped a few treats into her mouth and sprinted out of sight, while the other sat licking his paw.

I heated up a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, wondering if the shelf simply broke under the weight of too many canned goods. But then my pets came into view from the darker corners of the house again, and I laughed aloud as I figured out the puzzle.

My cat, Tiger, was very skilled at opening doors. He often opened bathroom doors and bothered me when I expected to be alone or startled me as I reached into the closet to claim my shoes. He could even open the patio door and let himself out at will. I realized he pried open the pantry door.

My second cat was an outstanding jumper. I’d seen her hop from the floor to the kitchen counter and up to the tall ceiling shelves in an instant. I deduced she’d jumped from the lowest pantry shelf to the higher one, thrown the cat treats to the floor and knocked over the dog bone box. .

But neither of the cats was capable of opening a package.

That was where the dog came in. Buddy had sharp teeth that could shred open any bag. He worked quite well with his front paws and could easily pop open a box. It appeared that he not only opened his treats, but the cats’ as well.

These three did not get along. Tiger and Buddy in particular glared at each other regularly. In fact, it often appeared that they hated each other. It was miraculous to picture them working together to capture the goodies. And then it struck me.

If these three animals could work together for something they all wanted, couldn’t we humans?

What if we all embraced this concept as we move into a new year? We don’t have to agree with each other; we don’t really even have to like each other; we just have to learn to help each other.