So there. Nya, nya, nya, nyaaa, nya. I may be a puppy but I'm mature now.
Things are working out pretty well here. There seems to be lots of food, which is my best thing. The humans say I’m like a magnet, whatever that is. It seems to mean that when I get my nose into a bowl they can’t get it out any more. But why should they get it out? Once I’ve started eating, what would be the point in stopping?
There’s another thing I don’t really understand. The humans seem to get terribly upset when I carefully use the carpet as my toilet. I don’t get it. I mean, they always go in afterwards and clean it up, so where’s the problem? They leave it nice and clean-smelling, ready for my next time.
Humans aren’t good at simple logic, are they?
The best thing of all, though, is the cat. He’s called Misty. He’s HUGE! Lots of times bigger than me. But he’s just so interesting. He keeps running away from me, but I chase him, I chase him. After all, he’s a strange grey thing with an interesting smell – I’ve just got to get close to him to find out what he’s all about. I like to curl up to him, which he seems OK with, but I have to admit that when I’m really close, I have to start chewing bits of him. His tail. His ears. His neck. It’s stronger than me. Which is bad, because he’s a lot stronger than me.
Misty: frighteningly huge and strong but so fascinating |
I’m not giving up, though. I know some day he’ll learn how loveable I am. So I keep going back and being loveable to him. Even if that does involve me using my teeth just the tiniest bit and him using his back, rather a lot. Some day he’ll see I’m fun to have around.
And then there’s walks. They’re quite fun. We go with Luci. Poor thing, she has to walk the whole way, but I get carried to the park and sometimes part of the way even in the park.
“What’s the point of being carried?” she says. “If you’re out for a walk, you ought to be walking.”
Well, yes, sure. Maybe. But when you can sit nice and warm inside a jacket instead?
Still, I don’t say anything. She’s trying to put a brave face on her bad luck and I don’t want to rub it in or anything.
We chase each other around a bit in the park and that’s fun. It’s just like when we’re back at home in the sitting room, but bigger. And we don’t get humans complaining about paw marks on the sofa and things like that.
Park walk with Luci: she’s happy to have me along |
We usually get food, too, after a walk, which makes it really special. They try to get me out in the garden afterwards, because when you’ve eaten, well, there are certain things you just have to do, aren’t there? Still, if I’m quick enough, I can usually get to the carpet before they grab me.
Oh… oh… oh… I may have to stop writing… Oh, yes, I must go, I must go, I must go… It’s the cat, it’s the cat, it’s the cat.
It’s so exciting.
No comments:
Post a Comment