A certain someone seems to be settling into the new place quite nicely. Shaylee has mellowed in her age… in the past, a move would have sent her into hiding for at least 6 months. Now, she’s out and about from the jump and doing quite well exploring and checking things out. And from the looks of it, she has claimed my bed. Because, I mean, of course.
I may have mentioned before that I would be moving. Well, that plan finally came to fruition this week and if nothing else, I’ve learned that I’m getting too old for this crap. Next time I move, it will be after having won the MegaMillions lottery and a team of movers will swoosh in to sort, pack, and move my stuff as I observe from the sidelines. Oh, who am I kidding? If I win the MegaMillions lottery, the only thing I’ll be packing is a suitcase as I plan my getaway across the ocean.
Don’t let this face fool you.
This cat is an asshole. She derives some sort of feline pleasure from occasionally tormenting our dog Petra … she will threaten her by not allowing her to pass by or walk through a door or she will latch on to the back of Petra’s neck or nip her ears. It’s not something I condone or allow, but I don’t always catch it before it happens. When it does happen … everyone, but everyone, knows. Because Petra screams at the top of her little Chihuahua lungs just as if someone were trying to murder her. Now you might say, of course she does! I would too! But the thing is, Shaylee doesn’t always actually make contact, and when she does, it’s not as horrific as it sounds. Shaylee’s intent is not to hurt so much as to amuse herself. Remember, I did say she was an asshole.
The key thing here to keep in mind is, Shaylee doesn’t always make contact. Sometimes she just gives Petra the ol’ cat stink-eye. However, if she’s stalking Petra and Petra knows it, Petra will scream, figuring the best offense is a good defense, I guess. Scare ‘em off with crazy.
This sibling intimidation hasn’t happened in a while and I can only assume that rather than the fulfillment of my hope for a peaceful, harmonious familial unit, it was instead simply because Shaylee was a little rattled after the move to the condo we now call home. (I will digress here a moment just to mention that unlike the noise dampening construction you might expect in privately owned condos, ours is more like your standard apartment building … we’re all well aware of what everyone else in the building is doing at any point in time.)
At any rate, round about midnight last night, I’m pretty sure the neighbors think I killed my dog.
Welcome to the neighborhood.
Musings from a Tangled Mind 