Listen up boys and girls. If your Mom and Dad ever, ever show up with anything that does not smell of cat, give them a swat and go ack in their shoes. Yes, Rufus and I were fooled for about a week. We were sure (OK Daddy Rufus assured me) that Juneau was a large ugly tuxedo Scottish Fold cat. After a week, something weird happened. The ugly cat got bigger and bigger and bigger! And she no longer had that sweet smell to her. She smelled, well, doggy. Doggy smells only come from DOGS! Holy piles of cat poo, they brought home a DOG. And they expect us to love her as a sister.
How can we love her if she does the following:
- Tries to sleep in our cat tree
- Eats our crunchies
- Drinks from our water bowls
- Plays with all our best toys
- Slobbers on the windows so we can’t see out
- Poo’s on the rug
- Rings the dang “gotta go pee” bells that Momma put on the front door. Day and night she rings them.
- Out the door, in the door, out the door. Make up your mind DOG.
- Complains all morning and afternoon long that she’s in her crate instead of out while Mom and Dad are at work. Oh wait, guess this is a good thing. Otherwise she’d be bothering us.
- The worst? You want to know the very worst? She gets up in the cat trees and gives me kisses with that long tongue of hers. No one gives me kisses. No way.
And the food issue. Every time we turn our backs, that dog is sneaking into our room and eating out of our bowls. Just for that, when Juneau is in her crate we eat out of her bowl. Mom lost about half her body weight (or so she claims) the past couple of weeks because Daddy was on business trips and Mom was forced to eat breakfast cereal three times a day since Juneau wouldn’t let her cook without trying to help. Listen Juneau, the best help in the kitchen is to stay the heck out of the way.
The couch issue. You ever heard of “seniority” Juneau???? You know, the state of being older than another or others or higher in rank than another or others. Cats = higher in rank and we are older. Dog = lower in rank and younger. So the couch is ours. It has 20 years of cat butt prints in it, 10 of which are Rufus’s and 8 are mine. See any dog butt prints? No. So stay off the couch dog.
The Momma hasn’t done any fiber arts in 3 months issue? You don’t let the Momma knit, spin, warp, weave, use the swift and ball winder or sewing machine, she goes nuts. She is nuts. Beyond nuts. (could be that menopause thing she keeps complaining about). And Momma has this little sewing machine she wants to use. She has a project all ready to go but with Juneau the helper she’s afraid to take out the iron and board to press the fabrics before sewing. No pre-pressing, no sewing to follow. I don’t think the machine is new though. It’s some little post depression looking thing. Momma hates her ugly current sewing machine with a passion and got this one because it the model has a long history of being a great machine. Maybe if she ever gets it out of it’s case she’ll show you some pictures of it.
Now that I have that out of my system and the brat is asleep in her crate, it’s time for me to bath and take a nap. Ciao!