Life in our house at the moment is like having warring teenagers except one is goofy, eager and innocent and the other is bitchy and worldly.
Dog: sorry I peed on floor again.
Me: That’s okay. You almost had a perfect day, and we were having a dinner party. Try again tomorrow.
Cat: Stupid animal. Still doesn’t understand enough to bury her excrement.
Dog: How I do that on tile?
Cat (rolling eyes): Do. Not. Pee. In. Public.
Dog: You pee in public. I see you in backyard. Your tail stick out.
Cat (furious): and I BURY it!
Dog, tilting head: You bury your tail?
Cat: Oh, my god.
The cat is now beside herself because she is not allowed out in the front yard. For whatever reason, she stays within the confines of our back yard (a considerable size, given we have a hill that goes up a long, looooong way, topped with a fence).
However, she wants to go out in the front yard. It doesn’t seem to occur to her if she hopped the fence on the side yard, she’d… be… in.. the… front…
So every so often she’ll make a jailbreak out the front door. The few times she’s made it out there we’ve managed to catch her. We tried taking her out on a leash but the blood loss got a bit much. I was starting to get anemic.
Anyway, she’s furious because Miss M has now had her 12 week shots and is allowed to go a short distance on her leash. Today marked her first excursion off our property… we went three houses and turned around.
It was exhausting.
With the guide dog training, she needs to keep the leash loose (no pulling) and focus on her handler to the best of her ability. Of course, she’s only 13 weeks old, but she needs to do the best she can… so there are a lot (a LOT) of treats involved to entice her to stay close and focused.
Despite the treats, she’s a baby. So we have to reset every so often to refocus. She’s amazing, really – for a 13 week old, she’s handling herself so well. But three houses and back is about the extent of it, and she arrives home with a happy heart and a full tummy.
The storm on the cat’s face is something to behold. This is not an animal with a happy heart. Her heart is as green as the grinch on Christmas Eve. She stands, furious, at the front door while we do the walks (we did three today and damn, did that dog SLEEP this afternoon.)
Cat: Why the HELL does SHE get to go out front?!
Dog (giant smile): I… what you call it? Responsible.
Me: she’s on a leash. We tried you on a leash. I nearly needed a transfusion.
Cat (eyes narrowed): You let her out in the back yard after dark!
Me: To pee. She’s a baby and can’t hold it and, again, she’s on a leash.
Cat: what is WITH all this urination? You are SO preoccupied with her bladder.
Me: You don’t have to clean up the piddles indoors. We had to get a gallon refill of Nature’s Miracle. I have a call in to our broker to buy stock.
ExaminingMisadventures 