Life’s been very interesting and exciting in the past week. There’s a cat in the house!
The daughter of my humans has come to stay – something about making a bubble with my humans and all to do with this lockdown thing they’ve been having – and she’s brought Kitty with her. Kitty! Her cat who’s stayed here before. And this time she’s here for a couple of weeks! I’m determined to find her this time.
I’ve been seaching everywhere but I’ve only managed to find her once, when she was strolling across the landing. We almost met but she ran away, and I raced after her. Their daughter, who is Kitty’s owner, yelled at me and I was bit scared. She can be a bit scary if I’m naughty but she loves me really because she makes a big fuss of me most of the time.
So life goes on. There’s a cat somewhere in his house. I’m determined to find her, but I never can. I’ve even pulled the futon mattress out from under the spare bed looking for her, like I did once before was I was younger, but she wasn’t there.
I’m beginning to wonder if she hides somewhere and watches me trying to find her. There are times when I’m in a room and I just know she’s there, but can I find her? Oh well, it makes a change from patrolling the borders of the garden along the new fence they had put up when I started digging my way out underneath the old one. And it’s nice to have my own cat around, because I can never get at the one who lives on the other side of that new fence.
It’s come to my notice that my human who writes a blog, wrote something about me chewing up things and digging holes in the garden when I was a puppy. Now I’m two and have grown up a bit, I think it’s time I put a bit of perspective on this story. I do have my reputation to consider after all, so here’s my version of things that were written about me when I was 21 months old:
I started living with my humans when I was 4 months old. I’d kind of got over the real baby stage of peeing whenever and wherever I needed to but was still in need of some guidance on getting into the garden for these tasks. I was shooed outside and told to “be busy”. No idea what that meant at all, but they always did this after I’d had a toilet trip indoors. It was a hot summer so the doors were open and the penny soon dropped. I was meant to do it outside.
I must confess that I loved my new home and my humans. We got on very well, they were always kind to me (still are) and I heard them describe me as “a delightful and interactive dog” Yeah!
I know I’m good with children. I’m always very friendly to them as they’re somehow a bit like puppies and closer to my size. I adore the human’s grandchildren and allow them to play with me, cuddle me, carry me about and at Christmas they put funny sparkly things on my head. I didn’t like it much but put up with it as it made them happy.
I often make noises and speak in “dog”, which the humans don’t understand, but they like it because it’s as though I’m saying “hello” and “chatting”. I sometimes make little howls of excitement too. But as I was still a puppy, with new teeth, I had to chew things, I just had to – all puppies do so it was perfectly normal as far as I’m concerned. Here’s what I chewed: Continue reading