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.