Me: Honey, I’m sorry, I really am. Just come inside.
The cat was having none of it. She was in a fury the likes of which I’d never before seen. She was hissing, swatting, spitting and just livid. I don’t think either of the kids in the height of teenage angst got to this level.
MaeMae: F🫢CK YOU!!
Beloved: just pick her up.
MaeMae: do it if you want to be known as double stumpy for the rest of your life. (Calling over to Beloved) AND I HATE YOU TOO!! Fukkin assholes.
Me: MaeMae, we love you. Please come inside.
Beloved stepped out on the patio and the cat disappeared between two of the very large pots.
Beloved: where is she?
Me: Hold on…
MaeMae sprinted into Granny’s flat (the bottom floor of the house), spitting as she went. Granny judiciously was in her bathroom, avoiding the escalating family drama. Probably saved her from bleeding.
The latest visitor is a 60 pound male and intelligent as hell. As usual, he’s sleeping in the crate in the bedroom, and, unclear of the concept, barked like mad trying to figure out the cat.
MaeMae, livid: He thinks I’m a squirrel! What IS it about those stupid rodents?
Puppy: oh my gosh it can TALK What sorcery is this Normally they only squeak when you chew on them
MaeMae, coming unglued: I AM NOT A SQUEAK TOY!!
Me, trying not to laugh: A squirrel shaped squeak toy at that!
If looks could kill I’d’ve been incinerated on the spot.
Part of the problem is we’ve had a solid six weeks canine free. MaeMae is almost acting like a normal cat.
So the first night he was in his crate, MaeMae attempted to come to bed, but she couldn’t deal with the barking.
MaeMae: Screw the lot of you. I’m sleeping at Granny’s.
With much hissing and yowling, she left.
2:30 am…
You. Are. An. Asshole.
Blink. Blink. Whuuut?
MaeMae, climbing on the bed: total asshole.
And passed out.
The first full day, and they started (very slightly) to get to know each other.
MaeMae: How dumb is this one? He thinks I’m a squeak toy.
Puppy: Well you sound like one
MaeMae: тно не си ни полиглот (Macedonian, if you’re interested – “probably isn’t even a polyglot”)
Puppy: Ancay oocay eekspay Igpay AtinLay
Me: I can! Woo hoo Pig Latin!!
Beloved: E-may oo-tay!
MaeMae, paws buried in hands: Babbu. È n’idiota. (You figure that one out, and congratulations! You’re reading Sicilian!)
The puppy muttered something I didn’t catch. MaeMae ground her teeth.
Me: Whad you say?
Puppy: I suggested she help teach others
Me: Huh?
Puppy: Why not help others learn
MaeMae: Why?
Puppy: ਦੁਨੀਆ ਨੂੰ ਇੱਕ ਬਿਹਤਰ ਜਗ੍ਹਾ ਬਣਾਉਣ ਲਈ – ਗਿਲਹਿਰੀ ਦਾ ਚਿਹਰਾ
The cat scowled and stomped off.
Puppy, shrugging: Maybe she doesn’t speak Punjabi (pause, yelling) I can teach you if you want I think I did okay in that class
Me: MaeMae, do NOT flip off our guest! (Dropping my voice) What did you say to her? I’m pretty sure she understood.
Puppy: I… I think I said it right (yelling again) did I say make the world a better place squirrel face
A growl sounded ominously from the cat’s direction.
Beloved: I think she got it.
Last week, Beloved had spent a day reinforcing the perimeter fence around the grassy bit in the back garden, and the puppy spent a minute surveying the enclosure. It’s not pretty (it’s a mishmash of bits and pieces) but it works… or we thought it did.
Our next door neighbors have two dogs, who came up to their side of the fence and barked, loudly.
The puppy scanned the fence again, then shot off, ears flapping, to the weakest point in the whole shebangy. Damn that dog, he just bent that cheapo fencing flat as he crashed through it and went sprinting up to the other dogs.
I can’t really blame him, the other dog with whom he lives is staying elsewhere – I’m gonna be traveling for work and two seemed a bit much for just Beloved to handle, what with taking the puppy on outings and leaving another at home unsupervised.
After conversing with the two dogs next door, the puppy set off to explore the wild yonder to which he was previously prevented from exploring.
Alas, our plumbing up the hill is… well, ancient and ineffective. It’s plenty dusty up there. We keep trying to kill off those damn palm trees, but they Just. Won’t. Die.
Anyway, the puppy raiser, upon hearing of the escapade, inquired whether we’d tried recall (“(Puppy’s name), COME!”)
The dogs are trained to come running when they hear recall, and it’s reinforced by giving the pup three treats instead of one, so they REALLY respond.
Yeah, we tried… he was more interested in the conversation with his new buddies than a couple kibble.
The fun continues…
Examining Misadventures 