Misty's Diary: strange how my feelings can change...

Another entry from Misty’s diary. In which he outlines his changing relationships with those around him.

April 2015

It’s funny, I’ve been getting on better with Domestic Number 2 lately. It’s almost as though the arrival of Luci has changed my attitude towards him too. I lie on his knees a bit more often in the evenings these days, and he doesn’t kick me off so soon any more.

Sometimes I think it may be our way of saying, “the other two are female, we need to look after each other a bit better.” But then I think again. After all, this is number 2. The one who needs things carefully explained to him all the time. Not like he’d ever catch a mood or seize a subliminal message or anything.

Take breakfast, for instance. I like to have a change from the dry food in the dispenser from time to time. Well, who wouldn’t? A bit of wet food. Chunks of meat and all that. Surely one’s entitled to a bit of that every now and then? Perhaps once a day? Hmm? Hmm?

So, what does it take? I’ve got him trained on the bath tap business. He knows I like to drink water straight from the tap. So if I run between his legs when he’s heading from the bathroom, as well as nearly tripping him up, which is fun, it gets him thinking along the right lines.

It may not appeal to you, but I like drinking this way

You can pretty much see his mind slowly whirring into action.

“Misty? Bathroom? Ah. He wants water from the tap.”

So he goes in and turns the tap on, carefully adjusting it till it’s dripping just right – not so fast that I get my paws wet, not so slow that I can’t drink from it properly.

“There you go,” he says, “the water’s on for you.”

Which is quite funny really, seeing as he thinks I don’t understand English.

“See?” he’ll go on, “the tap’s on. You can jump in the bath and have a drink.”

But recently I’ve just sat there and looked at him. Or even turned my back.

“What is it?” You can hear him getting worried. “What’s the problem? You don’t want water?”

The penny’s beginning to drop…

“Not water, then? You want something else? Wet food perhaps?”

Ah. There at last.

But boy, what a struggle. Who wants to go through that every day, before breakfast? You’d think after a couple of times he’d understand.

Ah, well. He may be slow, but I still like sitting on him in the evenings. Though he’s a sad case intellectually, he’s friendly, he does feed me eventually if I ask clearly enough, and there is a case for some gender solidarity.

Though, as it happens, the females are worth cultivating too. Domestic number 1 keeps buying things for the crazy little puppy Luci. Beds, for instance. She’s bought two of them for her. Two! Luci’s tiny, but she gets two beds?

Strangely enough, I’m partial to a dog bed. Not sure why. It was the same with Janka: I liked to sleep on her rug sometimes. 

Well, a lot really.

Domestic Number 1 piled the two beds one on top of the other day. Which was just wonderful! I could lie on both of them. At the same time. Depriving Luci of either of them. Boy, she was put out. Which only added to the fun. She hovered for a while, looking envious. And I stretched luxuriously and really enjoyed the warm fluffiness. Brilliant.

The luxury. Enjoying both of Luci's beds at once.
And stopping her

Though then she went rushing over to the sofa – she hardly does anything except at a rush – and leaped up between the domestics. My domestics.

I decided that the beds, even if there were two of them, weren’t quite as wonderful as all that. And wandered over myself. With dignity, mind. And hopped up on Domestic Number 2’s knees.

Quite nice really. Even he seemed to feel that. He stroked me behind the ears. And I let him.

I must be getting soft.