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.

I can pee like a sprinkler (in a circle)!

This is a little embarrassing, but here goes.... I've made so many strides over the past several weeks with regard to my people skills, but Marcymommy realized after my last trip to Fuzzy Friends that I had attachment issues. Well, of course I do, royalty can't just be friends with anyone! She decided that Pauldaddy should do more bonding with me, which involved him taking me outside and feeding me and holding me without Marcymommy always around. So for the past week Pauldaddy is insisting that I respond to him with love as much as I do with Marcymommy. They're saying I don't generalize my affections from one person to another. I didn't think it was a problem, but I seem to be losing my grip on my castle lately. So this morning Marcymommy suggested to Pauldaddy that he really wanted to bond with me this morning by letting me out of my crate and taking me out to potty--all by himself.

I'm more than happy to greet him as he opens the door, but only because I expect Marcymommy to be around the corner. This morning I know she's not, so I back into a corner and use my most assertive tone of voice with Pauldaddy. Who knew he could fit half his body into the crate?! I bit him on the finger (gently, of course) but he grabbed me anyway. He's so clueless. I screamed as he took me outside because I knew Marcymommy would hear me through her window. But she didn't come outside and I couldn't hold it anymore. Pauldaddy picked me up to bring me back inside (I have legs, man, I can walk!). He brought me to see Marcymommy, and I thought my world was right again. I even let Pauldaddy cuddle me some more (well, Marcymommy threw me into his arms). As she was getting ready for the day (i.e. breakfast without me) I realized I had to go potty again. The bathmat is really lush and since I don't see a wide range of colors, how was I to know I wasn't supposed to go on it? I thought it was part of spoiling me. I start circling, looking for the perfect spot, when Marcymommy looks down and actually uses the word, "no." I mean, really. She picks me up and swings me around to face away from her, and I think it must sort of be like the Six Flag rides that go in circles and you just let loose, accidentally. I personally think that people should not be allowed to laugh at you when you make such an error, but she called Pauldaddy to come get me and I could hear her screaming with laughter. Worse than peeing on the floor, she said, was picking me up mid-stream, swinging me around, and realizing that's I could pee 360 degrees on the walls, closet, and sink counter. Bust out the clorox wipes!

the disciplinarian

I have always considered myself to be a natural leader. Since I've generally mastered being bathed and combed and am learning to play without peeing in fear, I thought it was a good time to begin close monitoring of my insubordinates. Marcymommy makes every attempt to maintain order in the castle, but monsters aren't always very cooperative. Case in point--they know they aren't supposed to bark savagely at the sliding glass door when people walk by. Or when leaves skitter by. Or when a new rock suddenly appears on the patio. So one day I took matters into my own hands and strode purposefully and firmly (i.e. like a bunch of scattering marbles) over to the monsters. I bounced, I dodged, I nipped at ankles and tips of tails, and never noticed Marcymommy shouting at the monsters to quiet down. But she meant everyone, including me. Can you imagine that?? I'm only trying to help but she actually said the words, "you are not the boss, let me take care of it." I refused to believe this so several times I have loudly lectured the monsters at various times and, while they get in trouble, I also get disciplined Cesar Milan-style, with a quick tap on my neck. Instead of my usual bugging-out of my eyes in anger, I now roll over in her arms so she can apologize by rubbing my belly. I suddenly understand, and it's ok. She wants me to delegate the discipline to her so I'm free to pursue other, happier activities, such as kitten wrestling and hall racing. What a generous thought.

news flash: I am NOT a squeaky toy

I may have to get a new writer. Marcymommy only devotes one day a week to my blog when in fact I should be a priority. Oh, well. So this past couple of weeks she thought it would be a good idea, or funny, or morbidly cruel, or whatever, to allow the small household monster to enter my domain at will. When I say small, I mean that's Marcymommy's description. I'm a petite four pounder and this behemoth weighs at least 50. The only thing I'm bigger than is the kitten, and I'm told that's temporary. You take what you can get sometimes, though, because my other options are either 80 pound monster. So I'm on the bed in the morning while Marcymommy gets ready to go to work and earn money to spend on me when the "little" monster bounds into the room and onto the bed. Marcymommy usually carries me around to prevent such intrusions so I ran to the edge of the bed and raised up on my hind legs, waving my front paws at her. It was not to be. She has this evil smile she gets when she's trying to introduce me to something that she says will be good for me. Moving on, the monster is on the bed getting closer by the millisecond. Did you know that I don't need wings in order to fly?!?! Now, when I'm on the couch, Marcymommy doesn't let the monsters up, so I feel a little safer and will dart around, barking at them. On the bed, however, I discovered that I may need to invest in stilts. Monster towers over me, leans her head down, and puts her entire mouth around my middle. So I did what any self-serving royal does in times of distress--I screamed my fool head off. I thought surely Marcymommy would realize the error of her ways but she only said that Monster was part lab and had a "soft" mouth meant for retrieving, not biting. Excuse me, I do not need to be retrieved. This went on for what seemed like days to the point where I had to stop playing with Monster when Marcymommy would look in our direction so she wouldn't think I agreed with her idea of a good time.

Most days I carry my head and tail up, and make my eyes extra bright and shiny. I rarely yell at Marcymommy or Pauldaddy when they pick me up, even when I'm surprised. Marcymommy makes a good nap pillow except when she's faking it so she can take my picture, none of which I've noticed have ended up on my blog. Hmmm...duty calls.

I think it's raining

I know I'm posting alot in one day, but I demanded that my scribe play catch up, regardless of other chores today or carpal tunnel syndrome. This morning I heard quite the commotion as the monsters started roaring for their morning walk. Why Marcymommy doesn't just turn them loose and lock the door, I don't know. My life would be so much easier, which is really the point, right? Anyway, I took another short snooze before she came back to let me out for my morning duties. She cuddled me and brought me into the bathrooms with her so I would be safe from the monsters while she got ready for the day. I hung out with the big yellow monster because she and I have an understanding--I don't bother her, she doesn't bother me. Either that or she didn't know I was there because she was asleep. At any rate, I was innocently surveying this section of my castle when Marcymommy grabbed me and a bottle of something I hadn't notice before. All of a sudden I thought there was a hole in the roof of the castle because I was getting DRIPPED on!!! But I look up and lo and behold, Marcymommy is directing the source of this rain right on my head. Ok, so I know royalty must maintain a certain standard of hygiene, but I really wasn't prepared for a bath this morning. I bugged my eyes out at her to show her I meant business, but she just smiled at me, poured some shampoo on me, and gave me a wet, soapy mohawk. Very funny. Now, I'm not saying I enjoyed the process, but after the leave-in conditioner and a gentle combing, I felt downright estatic--you know, as if I'd been dropped in a vat of my favorite treats! I'm a great candidate for fluffy hair. I'm sure that the model agency will be booking me soon. Life is good.

leaps and bounds, part 2

Also this week, Marcymommy either thought she could intimidate me or that it would be funny to put me on the floor when the monsters (resident dogs) were inside. I darted and dodged, yelled and charged. And then I realized I was talking to their feet. The big male assumed I wanted to shake paws, I guess, but he's clumsy and hit me on my head. Insubordinate. I'm going to have to see about having him imprisoned for that...or at least get his treats transferred to me. The big yellow female gave me a dirty look and walked off; clearly she knew her place in my castle. The little female--and I use the term little very loosely--keeps mistaking me for her favorite beaver chew toy. I understand we're about the same size and color, but that beaver doesn't have any stuffing, and I'm certain I do not appear that deflated. She obviously is a special needs dog, if she cannot recognize me as her queen. I will have to see about getting her some services for the visually-impaired. Marcymommy has a friend whose husband works in that department. So many things on my to-do list. Anyway, I refused to interact with those heathens for the first part of the week, instead choosing to chase the new kitten up and down the hall. She also hit me on the head like the big monster did, but it didn't feel so bad. She seemed miffed when I sat on her, especially when Marcymommy told me I was a good girl because I was learning to play. Throughout the week we got along better and better.

Later on in the week I allowed the small female monster to be on the same surface as me (I kick her off the couch, but Marcymommy keeps letting her on the bed when I've clearly already claimed that territory). She wisely lay down in an attempt to bow to me, so I went over to have her kiss my feet but she stood up and started barking and licking me. Marcymommy insisted this was called playing, but I object to loud noises and slobber as part of a social interaction. Plus the monster insists on sniffing me all the time. I'll ask Marcymommy for a muzzle...or maybe just a pillowcase to put over the monster's head. Nevertheless, this one seems nice albeit obnoxious. I may give her a chance.

Leaps and bounds, part one

This past week I've been making progress by leaps and bounds, according to Marcymommy. Of course, it's easier to leap and bound when your toenails aren't digging into your paw pads. Marcymommy spent two days cradling me and playing with my feet until my eyes quit bugging out of my head in indignation. Then she brought out scissors to trim the fur on my feet, and I tried to have a conniption fit like last time at Fuzzy Friends. But all the blood had run from my brain to my tummy because of all the treats. So I couldn't concentrate on arguing. Besides, she keeps misinterpreting my dog-speak. Marcymommy did tell me that real queens get pedicures all the time, that it's a real sign of pampering. While she was telling me this story she's filing those pesky dewclaws of mine and then clipping them with her own toenail clippers. I think I'm really growing up. Except for the part where I ran around and around in circles on the bathroom floor because I knew there must be a treat for enduring the toe-nail guillotine--pedicure my foot!

Is there a writer's strike?

So, people may think that I only have a writer because I don't have thumbs with which to type. The truth is, is that I really just believe my thoughts flow better if I can dictate to my subjects (i.e. Marcymommy). I hesitate to complain about the long gap between the last entry and this one. I'm told that I can only be pampered so many ways in one day, which is just the silliest thought ever. The past several days she has taken up brushing me as her new hobby. I admit, I want to look good and stay youthful, which means smooth and shiny hair. I made sure she knew by my wide-eyed stare that she had better be careful with that wire slicker brush. One little hair pull and there was going to have to be some vigilante justice. I thought maybe there was a magnet in the brush because she kept popping it up and down lightly over my tangles (it's rough maintaining the wind blown look), claiming that doing so would help get me used to the brush and also attack the tangles in a gradual way. I could have fallen asleep (don't tell her that) but I stayed alert. I have so much more to dictate, but Marcymommy claims she has to go to work to afford to take care of her resident monsters. As if that should shorten my contribution. The service around here has got to improve...although I still am enjoying my filtered water. Gotta stay positive.

Love to all my fans/subjects at Fuzzy Friends, especially my Angelamommy!

Now we're getting somewhere

After a whole day of refusing water and kibble, my new person, Marcymommy, chastised me but then gave me a jar of chicken meal baby food. As it should be. I did lap up some water, it being filtered and all. Then, during dinner, it was like the heavens opened up: citing dehydration possibilities, Marcymommy brought in some steamed peas, steak fat, and--STEAK! Finally, she catches a clue! This whole new castle dominion thing could really be working out. Now if I could just get those monsters (dogs) back across my moat....

Monsters are afoot!

Day 2 in my new castle

I woke in the dark, wondering where was my Angela--and then I remembered. There was apparently war on the other side of the castle walls, and I obviously had been sequestered for my own safety. After my new person came to say good morning and I allowed to her walk with me outside for a little fresh air, we came back to my room for her to serve me breakfast. Unfortunately, the dense girl simply refilled my dish with that dry kibble again. She did excitedly tell me that she had given me filtered water. She needs work, but it's a start.

She brought out those yummy treats again, and while I was enjoying one, I noticed a dark shape looming in the doorway. A giant hairy beast with a big nose, bigger feet, and fiery eyes poked his head into the room. He was quiet and backed away when I insulted him (i.e. barked like a St. Bernard on helium). I could get used to this power. She said it was not a monster, but a German Shepherd who lives here; nevertheless, I think she should immediately contact pest control. And the local steakhouse.

Treats do not a happy Queen make

Wednesday, August 13th, 2008

So, for over a week this curious woman kept requesting my presence and offering yummy treats. She seemed desperate, so I ate them, and ignored her comments that I was so excited to have the treats since I have such disdain for dry kibble. I don't have anything against dry dog food, I was just thinking that any day now my steak would arrive. Back to this woman; she came almost everyday to visit with me and plead for me to let her pet me and hold me. I occasionally noted my disapproval by peeing on the floor. I suspect she's putting something in those treats, because about the third day she visited I noticed my tail wagging, which it usually does without my permission. She kept visiting, my tail kept wagging, until one day my feet dragged me into her lap. So now, I'm told I'm to lord over another kingdom because this woman obviously cannot keep control of her subordinates. I didn't really agree to help, and tried to tell her as much all the way home. She kept singing to me and asking if I was a scared little pup. What?!

We've arrived at the new castle, and I smell lots of new smells and hear lots of new noises. There is dry kibble in my dish and I have been left alone to, as I'm told, settle in. I have not yet received my crown or my steak, so I'm going to just sit on my cushioned bed and refuse my kibble and water. That'll show them.