Me: MaeMae! What have you got?
The cat didn’t shift her gaze from the flower pot.
Me: MaeMae!
Struggling with the puppy, I tried to see what the cat had cornered. Miss R, the guide dog puppy in training, strained to get to the cat.
Me: MaeMae! What are you doing?
Cat, not breaking her unblinking watch on the same spot: Nothing. Go away.
Hoo, boy. Something’s about to die if we don’t get that cat away from there, but I have the pupp… ooooh.
I gave the leash it’s full length and waited.
The puppy, growing lankier by the day, landed on the cat’s head.
Miss R: hi MaeMae hi MaeMae I play with you now
MaeMae: Get. Off. GET OFF. GETOFFGETOFFGETOFFGETOFF
The lizard cowered against the pot’s saucer as the cat cursed a blue streak. I wrapped the leash around the patio table and calmly picked up the plant while the puppy, ass in the air and tail clanging against anything nearby, attempted to lick the cat.
Lizard: jaysus, thanks, I thought I was a dead man.
Tiny reptile safely deposited in the bushes, I went to retrieve the dog, now staining on the leash, trying to get to the cat.
MaeMae: What. The. F…
Me, interrupting: Forget it. You’re lucky I didn’t drop the leash altogether.
Puppy: Why I stay on leash I not eat MaeMae I love MaeMae
Me: seriously? Until we get a fence up to stop you from heading up the back bank, you, my furry little object, are on leash.
Puppy, pouting: MaeMae no on leash
Me: MaeMae is three years old. You are not.
MaeMae: maybe when you learn to pee outside.
Puppy, cutting her side eye: I pee outside
MaeMae: and inside, and on your bed…
Puppy, outraged: I no pee on bed you lie MaeMae
MaeMae: Huh. You still pee indoors.
Puppy: so do you I can smell it
MaeMae: in the litter box, ding dong.
Puppy: Litter… box…
MaeMae, sighing: It’s where I can pee if I’m trapped inside. Outdoors is far more civilized, but one makes do as one must.
Puppy, sitting up straighter: so I use litter box too
MaeMae: the HELL you use my box! That is MY box. I will not have you fouling it with your <<shudder>> excrement.
Puppy: but… but you do
MaeMae, under her breath: why? Why must they have these half wit ding dongs live with us?
Me: Cats use litter boxes. Dogs go outside, and people clean up after their dogs. We also clean litter boxes, so it’s all the same.
MaeMae: it is NOT the same. Cats are far cleaner – we bury it.
Puppy: why you saving it for something like burying a bone
MaeMae (under her breath again): My cross to bear…
Puppy: what you do when you dig it up later dogs chew their stored bones you chew your poo
MaeMae, abandoning subtlety: NO! I DO NOT EAT MY POOP, I AM NOT AN UNWASHED HEATHEN, UNLIKE SOME DOGS. I am a clean, well mannered cat who DOES NOT BEHAVE BADLY LIKE SOOOOOME PEOPLE I KNOW.
Puppy: Huh seems like well mannered people don’t yell
Examining Misadventures 