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.