Senseless Sunday Sarcasm : Tripping Dog Days
It’s 4 in the morning. My cat hates me and the dog wants me to get the hell off her pillow.
Do you know what it’s like to be purred upon by this?
Better to be purred upon than pooped…I suppose.
Why the ambivalence? I still remember the cracked rib after 20 pounds of coon cat jumped on me from a 4 foot perch. It was his way of saying…
I can always buy new shoes.
But I’m quite attached to my ribs.
Yes, I fed the cat, and gave the dogs a teaspoon of cat food so they wouldn’t feel left out.
And then, for seemingly no reason, Dingo jumps on Fat White Dog. The half-fed cat runs from the kitchen, and I’m breaking up a dog fight at 4:30 in the morning.
It looked a lot like this, only with more growling and 2 seconds of teeth baring.
What, you might ask, was the problem? It took a telescope and a 4-footed detective named Errrrr Dog, but a tiny sliver of this…
…had fallen off their silver-colored spoon and onto their padded pooch perch near the heater. FWD was trying to zero in on said sliver and Dingo wasn’t going to allow it.
Unfortunately, the evidence disappeared milliseconds after Detective Errrrr Dog discovered it.
Poor little overloved babies. They have such put-upon lives. Isn’t this the single-most pitiful sight you’ve ever seen?
So then, the cat is creeping toward the food again and Dingo sits.
Sitting is all right, but not when I’m putting my foot down in mid walk. Thankfully, the kitchen sink was there to stop my fall.
And he continues to sit…oblivious to the fact that mom has once again escaped brain damage by using the rest of her body as a shield.
Then, he gives me that “look.” You know what I mean…
When it comes to food, my dogs have a motto
The cat finished his dinner and likes me again… for now.
The dog has succeeded in stealing my pillow as I write this. So I suppose all is right in the their worlds again.
As for MY world…