This is the look I get from the ne’er-do-well when it’s time to close the blinds and she’s not quite ready to be done spying on the courtyard. I’m not dead, thank goodness… but certainly not from lack of trying on Holly’s part.
Someone who shall remain nameless – *cough cough* the ne’er-do-well *cough cough* – really sucks at hide-n-seek. But she excels at being cute. So who is the real winner here?
You know that sound a dog makes when it’s licking itself? That disgusting slurp that somehow makes it through your ear, down your spine, and into your stomach to make you go ewwww … but more like a full body ewwww because it’s just so damn repulsive?
Yeah. I hate that.
Rufus’ only job is to love me. He thinks he has to protect the house from the mail carrier, the cat across the street, the leaf blowing down the sidewalk, and anyone who happens to walk past our door… those who have the audacity to knock must die of course, and if it weren’t for me foiling his plans, goodness knows how many notches he would have on his belt by now. But in reality, his only job is to love me, and he does it very well. The below is evidence of this.
I’m not sure whether I should feel guilty for leaving him out in the cold, as it were, impressed with his staying power (he apparently stayed this way for 30 minutes), or comforted at the idea that someone loves me so unconditionally that they would willingly stand guard awaiting my return from the bath.
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 remember 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 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.
I have to give the Ne’er-do-well credit, she is gorgeous. Especially her eyes. Maybe she’s born with it … maybe it’s Meowbelline.
Okay, so that one was bad, even for me.