Tuesday, October 17, 2006

You can't comb me!

Home Base
Originally uploaded by Shmoomeema.
The human woman decided to spend some "quality time" with me tonight because I kept clawing her. She kept thinking that I wanted to go out, but I wouldn't go out. She'd sit down, I'd claw, she'd ask "do you want to go out?" I pranced, she walked behind me and at the last minute I'd veer from the steps, jump on the couch, look very fluffy and coy.

That only lasted about 5 times (she'll never learn, after 5 years, she still falls for it), before she decided that she'd comb me. I don't know how she translated "I'm going to drive her insane" to "I want to be combed", but hey, she's only human.

This created a whole new game for me. One swipe of the comb, in the crate I go. She'd walk away, I'd come out, claw, one swipe of comb, in the crate I go.

We have this understanding. The humans made the rule, I just follow it: crates are safe havens and nothing bad happens in there. I love that rule! Comb comes out, I run in crate. Human man mad for some reason, in the crate I go. Tear up something important... position Loki near it, woo really loud to draw the attention of the human woman, run into crate and look innocent. "What? No, I was in here asleep the whole time".

So, someone anonymously posted that I should be nice to the gimpy, whiney, weenie mutatoe puppy. Um... its called Meeshka's World, I make the rules. Rule #1 is that I'm fluffy and adorable and its MY house. Rule #2 is that I torture the mutatoe whenever I want. He loves it anyway, so who am I to deny him something enjoyable?

This goes doubly for today since that suck up little whiner finally caught the elusive mole he's been after. While some dogs stalk their prey, slowly creep up on it, attack with ferociousness... Loki bores his prey to death. He's sat by the fence for weeks, just waiting for this mole to jump into his mouth or something. No digging after it, no stalking, no ferocious attack... he just sat there. Finally the mole said "ah screw it" and came out.

Now why does the gimpy mutatoe interloper deserve to be tortured? Because instead of ripping the mole to shreds and dining on tasty mole innards... he just plays with it until it doesn't move and then guards it. What a waste of a perfectly good mole!

Of course, eventually the human woman came out, saw us all laying in a circle, brought out the flashlight and plastic bag, pronounced it a good sized mole and threw it over the fence.

See what I have to put up with?

(should have been MY mole)


Holly said...

My step brother Samuel will kill something and then just lick it like a lollypop. He doesn't actually eat it either. He only does that to small snacks, like baby birds. Mom gets mad at us though when we kill things. She get the plastic bag out too, and then we never see them again. Those humans sure are mean.


Michelle said...

Okay, I can't stand it anymore. I've been wondering for months: what's on the other side of your fence? Besides all the deceased yet tasty creatures that keep getting tossed back there?

Is there maybe a neighbor dog who has no idea why dead yummies keep appearing in his yard, and as a result is about 2 baby squirrel carcasses away from establishing some kind of pagan fence worship religion to praise the gods for their generous if sporadic bounty of organic crunchy treats?

(true story: I mistyped "gods" above as "dogs." then I backspaced over it and did it again. either I'm way loopy from getting slammed with 6 projects the day I got back from vacation, *or* the doggods are speaking through my fingers. both?)

Turbo the Sibe said...

The doggods are speaking through your fingers, Michelle!

She does ask a great question about the other side of the fence!

Anonymous said...

Since Loki was fixated on the mole, did you get one of the holes he dug (or did the woman fill them all with poop?).

I hate to get combed too and run to my crate as soon as I see the brush. That often works, but sometimes, the people just pull me out anyway.

My people throw stuff we catch over the fence too--there's a creek back there and we often hear rustling of various kinds.


Tierre said...

I confess! I did it! I made the anonymous comment at 10:05 yesterday morning. I'm sorry! I just want you to be nice to Loki, that's all. Glad to get that out my chest. Anyway, I love your site!

Tierre (TY-ree)
(Did I mention I'm a human?)

Ender said...

I love my crate! But when I am downstairs, or there is no crate for me to run and hide in, I like to try and hide somewhere where the humans are to big to fit. The end table, the kitchen table is fun to be under...stuff like that!

Kelsey and Smokey said...

Being brused is the WORST! I don't have a crate, but I fly out the doggie door light white lightening! And don't even get me started on getting my toenails trimmed or my teeth brused....

Good readin Meeshka! Keep up the great work!


Cubby said...

Dakota runs to her crate when the brush comes out, too! I have no glorious fluffiness, so I avoid the wrath of the comb!