A Terror Unleashed

Have you ever had a moment when your life passed before your eyes? Marcymommy calls it desensitization, but I call it kastle-sponsored torture. So I'm innocently gnawing on a piece of toy (NatalieMonster always leaves toys in pieces, that way there are more toys) and looking just oh-so-cute and adoptable. This horrible black snake uncoils from its hook on beside the popcorn-giver (i.e. microwave); before it so much as touches the ground I'm under the bed at the back of the house. Nothing happens for several minutes. Marcymommy kneels beside the bed, no snake in her hands, so I come out for cuddles. Back in the living room, all is quiet, for now. I don't see the snake, but it is not back on its hook with the other snakes that belong to the resident monsters. Oh, it's so stealthy, but I have really big eyes that I can bug out, the better to take in all the sights. Then, on a return trip from outside, I trounce my way to the living room and spot it--coiled menacingly at the foot of the entry landing. You know, it's really impolite to laugh when someone freaks out and jumps sideways into the passing resident housemonsters and then they retaliate with a nose-shove and you bounce involuntarily back toward the snake. Nevertheless, the snake never moved, not even once. It never moved while I was looking, yet it managed to innocently sidle its way around the house. For days this went on, and I began to become suspicious, then paranoid. I was being stalked by a snake, and Marcymommy didn't even seem to notice! Yet, it never made a move toward me...curious. I began to relax. Big mistake.

One day Marcymommy picked me up and smiled a smile that has always meant she has been up to something, up to absolutely no good. The motionless snake lay on the floor beside some luckless toys, and I realized at that moment, that Marcymommy was the puppetmaster, and had orchestrated quite the coup. In one fell swoop the snake was hooked to my collar, locked in good and tight, its venom called 'obedience training.' Everywhere I ran, this stupid thing followed, refusing to be deterred. At one point Marcymommy grabbed hold of one end, but I knew I wasn't saved. Rather than detach the snake, she gently pulled on her end and all of a sudden I found myself walking toward her. Oh, but I don't come so easily--I screamed and headed for the nearest shelter, behind the glider chair. She offered a home-made doggie biscuit, and I thought 'snakes don't eat biscuits' so I ran out to get it, and the stupid thing followed me! By this point I thought I might need psychiatric help...or medication. Marcymommy was kind enough not to laugh but cuddled me instead though she did not detach the snake for the longest time. I'm proud to say I did not succumb to the snake this day.

*editor's note: the Queen does not think she needs leash-training (i.e. the snake in the story), as it does not serve any purpose that she can see, and lest you think she was traumatized, as soon as it comes off she curls her tail over her back and runs a victory lap around the house

A Merry Christmas!

Apparently Christmas is a time when people chase you around with cameras trying to convince you to look natural while you're opening your presents. For one thing, when being photographed I prefer to be prepared. Also, I am currently petrified of the camera, and can add that fear to the ever-growing and changing list. At any rate, when there are presents involved, one can overlook certain things, like a flash from a camera when your head is stuck in a box. I watched in dismay as the house monsters stuck their faces into their Christmas bags and began to pull out an assortment of toys and chewies (something called "greenies" that look insultingly like toothbrushes). I sat beside Marcymommy and this overturned box and discovered my own gifts awaited. I was not exactly in tune with the new pink rolled collar but enjoyed the squeaky duck and greenie chew. My tail curled over my back in happiness because the greenie is one of the few chewies that actually come in a manageable size. Unfortunately when I turned my back to thank Marcymommy, the yellow housemonster stole it--inhaled it is more like it. I got another one right away, but still....

The best part about days like these is that the housemonsters play with all the new stuff instead of either trying to make me squeak or drinking all the water out of the short bowl so that I have to resort to using the big bowl which is more like a swimming pool from my perspective.

After the midnight gift opening all the lights were turned off and we went to bed where I discovered that the resident kitties had also had a Merry Christmas--and all their toys seemed such a fit for me--except for the rustle-crackle tunnel which sounded like a plastic bag chasing me. So Marcymommy caught a clue and tossed me some of the foam balls, feather twisters, and got out the feathered fisher to drive me batty with joy. Worn out, I crawled under the bed with the glowing-eyed kitty-monsters and passed out. Quite the Merry Christmas, I must say. Cheers.

Cozy and Comfy are We

I Have Permission to Run Amok!

It's all semantics, people. I think my crown needs shining after the past few weeks, because people sure think they can do what they want with me. By "people" I mean everyone who is not Marcymommy. So this wedding thing had its ups as well as downs, the downs I will explain next time. The ups is that Marcymommy knew family was coming in and that their arrival was a good time for me to make my debut (read, 'entertain the idea of not baring my teeth at everyone'). That meant that she thought I was mature enough to hang out in the house instead of in the foster room, even while she was gone for the day. For awhile she kept the house monsters separated from me--they were on the linoleum kitchen area while I surveyed the carpeted part of my kingdom. This suited me well, as the toys that were on my side were not able to be stolen and the monsters also could not confuse me for one of their toys during this time. I spent my days hopping on and off the cushy couch while laughing at the house monsters on the other side of the baby gate. At will I would get what Marcymommy calls the "puppy crazies" and race repeatedly up and down the hallway until I inevitably fell over my own feet and lay with my regal tongue curled all the way to my nose. It was most fun, even when LucyKitten would surprise me in one of my rounds by tackling me by the head and then leaping up to the bed where I couldn't reach her.

My world was all well and good which meant that Marcymommy would see fit to change it. I don't know what goes through her mind. She then thought the housemonsters were good enough to be placed in my presence during the entire day. I mean, really, where was I going to be able to do my beauty rest?? At any rate, she had the housemonsters practice while she went on short trips to the store, etc. One day she came home, announced that I had not been 'accidentally-on-purpose' eaten by them, and so we could all merge into one territory. The horror!! On the positive side, I do have physical access to the housemonsters so that they may get frequent experience bending to my will. So far I have successfully ordered them to eat the red pieces from my kibble.

Will wonders never cease!

I know my subjects have been patiently waiting for another post. Marcymommy seems to think planning a wedding supercedes my blog dictations, silly girl. She finally got some pictures up to prove I'm not a complete menace to society. We're going to forget about my attempt to take off the hand of the newest PetsMart employee as she tried to give me a biscuit.

On a more positive note, I mostly carry my tail curled over my back, the ultimate sign of my satisfaction. Or I'm rolled over with my paws in the air in a state of relaxation--don't even think it means submission in my case! I'm still working on taming the resident monsters, mostly by chasing them out the back door when they're already on their way. I really enjoy NatalieMonster and LucyKitten. They're usually nice to me but sometimes LucyKitten thinks my head is something she should grab hold of and try to detach from the rest of me. NatalieMonster thinks I feel more secure if she puts her big head on me. She doesn't read my cue of the muffled growl; maybe she thinks it's her own tummy telling her she's hungry?

I'm still working on getting along with the two-legged kind. Even Pauldaddy makes me wanna piddle on the floor sometimes. And everyone is so tall I still lower myself to the ground when I go to say hi. I tell myself not to, but my short little legs just give way.

A fun new element is that now I get to sleep outside my room. For awhile Marcymommy had left me out of my crate but in my room, but for the past couple of weeks I get to have the run of my castle. Of course, after a long day of peering under a closed door while everyone is away, I'm usually too tired to wander at night. Marcymommy lets me wind down on the bed and then eventually puts me on the floor. Her reasons are that she doesn't want to accidentally squash me and also doesn't want to worry about me jumping off the bed and breaking my already-short legs. It's not a problem except that B.K.Cat and PookieCat are under the bed and their glowing eyes freak me out. I mean, have they ever looked in a mirror?! Well, in spite of the time change, I'm growing weary and need to rest. More later!

I thought those were dog treats!!

I think that ground rules should have been explained BEFORE the arrival of two toddlers. Marcymommy invited some friends to dinner last week, and I was so excited. I thought surely everyone had realized my importance because I was the only dog allowed in the house during dinner. Thankfully, only one toddler at a time arrived. The first one was tall and sort of didn't notice me, which was a bit offensive but allowed me to conduct my secret investigation of her. We all sat down, me on the couch as is my right, and one of the grown-ups sat with me. Marcymommy was right next to me and this person, so I thought she must be pretty friendly. I laid down and looked up at her, I even kicked out my back legs, the ultimate sign of cuteness and comfort. She smiled and offered a hand. All was going well. Marcymommy said she was proud I didn't pee in front of everyone, a comment that should not have been made in public. Marcymommy clearly needs some help with her social skills.

After awhile, a second toddler came in, younger and shorter. She was carrying these little things that I swear looked liked the little hot dogs in beenie-weenie meals. She initially didn't see me, short as I am, so I followed her. She looked down and smiled, and seemed to offer me some little hot dogs, so I graciously accepted--with my teeth. Well, Marcymommy quietly explained that those were not hot dogs or any other treat, but rather they were a small child's fingers and I should not use my teeth to get attention or tell her to go away. After that, Marcymommy thought it best that I hang out in my room until the visitors were gone. It was a bittersweet day, she said; I've made much progress but I need lots of help with my social skills. Marcymommy said she will have me as long as it takes, which made me feel good even though she's not the boss. I am.

I'm can't believe I'm being chased by a snake!!

Several weeks have passed since my arrival at my new kingdom. So far I have mastered not screaming whenever touched, not screaming at the sight of scissors or a towel, eating dry kibble, appropriately harassing the resident kitten, and asserting myself to the monster (resident dogs). Marcymommy thought it appropriate for me to have a collar and get used to a leash. Well, admittedly, this happened after I followed her out the front door. She can make pretty funny faces when she thinks I'm going to run out in front of a car--as if! Anyway, the pink collar only took a little getting used to. The leash, on the other hand, I swear was a snake attached to my neck. Seeing as how snakes cannot run, I leaped off the couch and sped down the hallway and into the master bedroom where I was laughed at (i.e. smacked upside the head) by the resident cats. Apparently snakes can chase even though they cannot run. When I arrived back at the couch, Marcymommy was kind enough not to laugh...well, at least to stop...somewhat. I spent the next hour cuddled in her lap trying to convince her that I don't need leash training. She has not brought it out again, but says she's going to and that now my getting treats will be dependent on encouragement opportunities (she would not dare call it obedience training). We'll see about that.