The Dog and the cats have often explained it to me: I do not own them; they own me. They love me and appreciate all I do, but I am not in charge.
It’s the iron fist, or paw, in the velvet glove. Make one bad move at breakfast, serve pate rather than bits in gravy, and the vocal meowing gets intense, “Idiot! Cretin! Take these slops away!” Then, the bowl winds up on the floor. Of Course, the Dog is my supporter, but he’s only an actor.”Don’t worry, Father! I’ll help clean up the mess…slobber, snort, gobble, and slurp!”
Once breakfast is over, the “pets” retire to the living room. This time of year, the woodstove had better be on so they could lie on the afghans and pillows to view the flames leaping. Ahhh warmth! What? Has the stove not been lit? “Father, get your lazy ass out here!”
Pet ownership? Really?
Discover more from Louis N. Carreras, Woodcarver
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
It sounds lovely, Lou. There have been 20 cats in my life, but I’ve never *owned* one! I did own a dog once — until the alpha male came home each day from work. That was when the dog cleaned up any/all cat food after eyeballing it all day and weighing the consequences. It riled me, lol, but I let him have his happy-dog moments. (What we call) *having pets* assures us there’s a (relatively!) safe and blessedly vivacious spot in our every day. True for them, too.😊
The dog is a momma’s boy. He like me, rough houses with me, but for Mom he’ll do things that he won’t for me; just the way it is. On the other hand the male cat more mine than ours.
The dog is in the cats’ pocket. Don’t trust him.
Ha! Look at that sweet face. Of course, Sabrina is in charge! 😹
The little Princess!
“Father”? I guess they don’t know what that means. They should be calling you “minion” or “lackey”. Got that, Princess Sabrina? Or are you just letting him THINK he’s worthy of the respectful title, “father”?
Martha! Don’t put ideas in their head about this. They’ll give me a collar and a bowl next!
Check your neck…
Truth!