Saturday, 1 October 2011

From one who formerly did not enjoy pets

I have an important role in the life of my dog Penne.  I am her chief haunch scratcher.  She will stand by me for as long as I wish, provided that I give her hind quarters a heavy and prolonged scratching, and it’s even better for her if I use a brush.

Once in a while I persuade her to show me her front end. Then I’ll hold her head between my hands and massage it, and her ears.  She’s then in heaven, and lets out a moan of appreciation.  It’s like an “uummm” which comes from her throat.

Speaking of which, I have to give her a pill every day. She is glad to let me open her jaws and place the pill at the back of her throat.  Then I close her jaw, massage her neck, and she swallows the pill without a word of protest on her part. 

Similarly, when I have to clean the inside of her ears (fortunately “they” now make wipes for this) – she allows me to do this without any fuss.   It’s almost as if she “knows” that this is good for her.

She and I were walking out today. 

We happened upon my neighbours Ron and Lee as they were driving home.  Penne knows these guys as she sometimes boards with them when I have to be away for more than half a day.  They stopped their car, and Penne went from window to window, her tail all a-wagging as she greeted her “friends”.  

Then she reverted to her old neuroses, and pressed her body hard against my leg.  I believe that she had the passing thought that I might leave her there and then. Ron and Lee like Penne, and she is very good when she stays in their home.  

But her body language was pretty clear today. It expressed “don’t leave me Daddy” 

(or maybe I am projecting these thoughts on to Penne!).

Senior cat Ada loves to be brushed.  If she sees the grooming brush in my hand she mews, then races towards me, happy to anticipate a good “brush-massage”.  If I leave the brush near her bed she rubs her body against it, purring with delight.

That’s good.

What’s not so good is that Ada will try to scarf down any canned dog food which I’ve set out for Penne.  After her “gobble-fest” on dog food she immediately throws it up.  You and I might have thought that some feline instinct would have taught her to avoid the dog food.

On the other hand, you and I might also have thought that humans would have learned to avoid the unhealthy food as served by friend chicken and/or hamburger joints.

Junior cat Adelaide is the feistiest of my pets. Each morning when I crawl out of bed she greets me with the yowly miaows which tell me that I should open the front door so that she can sit out in my front porch.

Similarly she yowls without relief at about 3:30 p.m. each day, knowing that I will set out her afternoon treat of a tablespoon-full of wet food at about 4:00 p.m.

She and Ada also get a morning treat of a wee bit of wet food. 

This morning Adelaide was nowhere to be seen at “feline breakfast time”.

I have a theory that cats are able to de-materialise and re-materialise at will, so I was not concerned -  that is until I noticed a gap in one of the mosquito screens in my porch.

Then I realised that Adelaide had bolted for freedom, and was outside – hunting for lizards and frogs.

There was nothing to do about this other than to wait for the return of the prodigal. To assist in this return I left the porch door ajar.

Sure enough, Adelaide came home about an hour later.  She snuck/sneaked in through the semi-opened door looking a little “sheepish”. 

(That led me to wonder if sheep are ever “catty”).

Hey pals.  Surely we all (canines, felines, or humans) know that “home is where the food is”)

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