I don’t understand

· Why can the lackey poo and pee inside the house on the loo thingy when I can’t even so much as rub by bum inside?
· Why is eating a rotting bone on the deck good and eating it on the big bed bad?
· Why is standing on the lackey’s lap good and standing on her head bad?
· Why am I not allowed to chase cats when the lackey doesn’t even like them?
· Why am I allowed to mess up the cushions on the lounge in the front room but get growled at when I mess up the cushions on the lounge in the tv room?
· Why is barking in the yard at strangers in the street good and barking in the lackey’s ear at 2am to tell her I’m awake bad?
· Why is licking the lackey’s face when she gets home from work good and licking the lackey’s face at 2am bad?
· Why is playing tug of war with the short twisted rope in the backyard good and playing tug of war with my harness lead out on our walk bad?
· Why am I only allowed to lick my bum when no-one is watching?
· If scratching feels so good, why does the lackey stop me doing it when I’m leaning against her back at 4am?
· Why does the lackey reward me for walking close when I’m on the harness lead and then growl about it when I do it in the kitchen?
· Why teach me to use the doggy door in the laundry and then complain when I use it between naps at night? Or is she really complaining about me coming back to bed with cold paws? Well then why can she cuddle me to get warm and I can’t plant my paws in her back to do the same thing?
· Why teach me to shake hands for treats and then yell at me for pawing her when I want treats?
· Why is all my fur on me cuddly and good and one single white hair in her clothes bad?
· Why does she get to scratch my tummy when I can’t scratch hers? Okay, so that one I’m okay with coz I can take as much as I can get but she still gets all snotty when I scratch at her. Just because my claws are perfect and hers are weak and soft. Oh, that must be it – she’s jealous of my nails.
· The one thing I do understand – humans are weird things that arbitrarily change the meaning of actions depending on the time of day and where you do them and whether or not they asked you first

A quiet life

More nights this week over with Dylan and his lackey for telly and music. Well, the lackeys liked it. Personally, I find watching fit human males in tight clothes as dull as watching the lackey do the dishes but she seems to enjoy it so I let her go. I don’t understand their music either but it keeps them quiet while Dylan and I play chasey and find-the-cat. Saturday we started the day with the lackey locking me out after breakfast so she could catch up on her sleep. Bad lackey. I was going to let her get away with it but I got cold so I starting telling the whole neighbourhood what a cruel monkey she was until she threw open the back door and snarled at me. I’m just hoping none of my friends saw her in her jammies without her hair brushed. Lazy lackey. I spent Saturday afternoon watching her clean and wash and tidy – for about ten minutes then I slept in my sunny spot next to the back window. Sunday was worse. Just before breakfast, the sky wasn’t getting lighter but darker with big clouds and then later the rain came down so hard the lackey had to turn the telly up to hear it. So I slept on the lackey’s leg all afternoon while she watched more telly. This one was better coz there was blood and meaty bits and I like the dog in the show too. When I called out to him, the lackey said: he can’t hear you, bub, Sam’s on the telly. Although I don’t think Sam is a real dog – he dived into a lake and went all the way under and when he came up for air, he was a human. My lackey watches some weird shit.

This is what we watched at Dylan’s - http://leverage-wiki.tnt.tv/page/Eliot+Spencer

This is what we watched at home - http://truebloodwiki.hbo.com/

Our Anniversary

Friday - Six months today that I’ve had this current lackey. I think she’s slowly getting to be where I need her to be. 7/10 - could try harder. I am expressing my disappointment in her lack of effort by continuing to wake her up each night. I may have to review this policy as the whole “a tired lackey is an obedient lackey” fails to account for her streak of rebellion.
Sunday - We’ve been over visiting Dylan and his lackey a couple of times this week as the lackeys have some new tv show they are watching. Dylan and I have fun keeping his neighbours alert and the cat he is cruelly forced to share the house with well away while we’re both there. Although, the ginger fluff factory was in the yard last night. It was lucky I was too focused on the yumminess in my bowl to realise it was sitting on the outside table watching me. When I lifted my nose from the now clean bowl, it was just in time to see a tail disappearing off the edge of the deck. I gave chase. The damn thing was too fast and too familiar with pre-planned escape routes for me to catch it. I did give the lackey a stern talking to when I got back to the door as she had just stood there, watching me eat, without pointing out the cat to me. Bad lackey.

you CAN teach an old lackey new tricks

Over Dylan’s again tonight and I gave the lackey another lesson in observation. Walking into the dark bathroom, I crept up to the back of the lackey’s legs and waited to see if she would notice me. She didn’t. When she turned, she stuck her great bog fat black boots out and promptly trod on my toes. I yelped and the lackey tried to step back, lift her foot and bend down to check I was okay all at once. Naturally, her monkey brain isn’t capable of this level of physical planning so her legs and arms got confused and she started to fall. Sticking out her arm may have stopped her face going onto the pointy corner of the tiled bath but that made her yelp as her arm was bent and weighted in a way that it doesn’t normally bend. I know the lackey is rather strong for a female of her useless species but she just couldn’t pull off a catching, diving one-armed push up with no stable footing. Idiot monkey. Anyway, this tough lesson has taught her to be hyper-aware of my movements at all times. Finally! It has even prompted her to change her walking style – she now slides her feet around me and tests her footing before transferring her weight. More of a wading bird style than the foot slapping stride she’s had till now. Now we can cross that lesson off the list, I’m going to move on to psychic feedback that compels the lackey to feed me without the need for me to ask for food in any way.

The price of getting stir-crazy

Three days of cold and wet weather meant that even though it was very cold last night, it wasn’t raining so the lackey and I NEEDED to go for a walk. But a small skid in the mud on our own footpath encouraged us to walk on the road for safety sake which is normally something the lackey does not allow. So that meant the park was a silly idea so we stuck to the paths and turned left at the school instead and went around a block we hadn’t been around before. Very quiet, hardly anyone home until we got to a very solid, very high fence and a Hellhound yelled at us at the top of his lungs. The lackey tried to get me to keep going but I wanted to tell him to shut up and not be so rude so I doubled back. Unfortunately for the lackey, neither of us paid attention to the long lead on my harness so one quick circle and a lunge later, the lackey was face planted into the footpath. She was not best pleased with this but was back up on her feet and yelling at me in no time. The Hellhound’s handler had heard him yelling and came out to check on him and saw the lackey fall, they assured each to her that all was well and we went home. The shortest walk in months was also the most eventful! When we did get home the lackey explained to me that she was relieved to have been wearing two layers of clothes as that saved her arms and knees a bit. She did point to her skinned knee and bleeding hand and told me I did it. No – you did that yourself, you idiot monkey, by not holding the lead properly and not reacting fast enough to my curiosity over a new friend. Still, I could see her point, or at least pretended to so I wouldn’t be commanded outside for the night. But in the deep dark, I felt a bit sorry for the lackey as she whimpered a bit when I stepped on her legs in the night so I thought and I thought about what I could do to cheer her up so I thought about what cheers me up and I had the answer – raw cow bones. I couldn’t go outside and get her the one I had left from the morning as the laundry door was shut against the cold so I did the next best thing – I hacked up the one I had eaten earlier. Now the lackey didn’t respond the way I expected. My walking to the foot of the bed had roused her a little so when she heard me yakking she said “Please don’t tell me you’re chucking on the bed”. Okay… but I was. The lackey made this strangled sort of I’ve-given-up sound and it seemed like she wasn’t going to get up and share my second hand bone bits. So I did what was right and cleaned them up myself the only way a dog can – I ate them back down again. Crunchie, crunchie. The lackey groaned a bit and I thought for a moment she was going to hack up something for me but she didn’t. Still, no harm done. I still got my breakfast and my treat and my cuddle when she left for work. She did tell me to clean up the rest of the bones on the deck but it was still half dark so I went back in the laundry instead and went to sleep.