Getting Even

Some nights, the lackey and I are a fluid, eight paws of togetherness. Some nights we ain’t. Take last night as an example of discord. The lackey came home, we had treats, we had scratches, we had dinner, we had a walk. All good. The lackey made a phone call while I got comfy on the big bed. Again, all good. The lackey turned on the computer and turned her back on me. Very not good. I stood on the edge of the bed and popped my front paws up on the back of her chair and licked her neck to get her attention. That worked for a couple of nice scratches and then she turned back to the silly box. Right. This means war. The secret of a master campaign is to lull the enemy into a false sense of security – this works equally well with lackeys and cats.

Battle 1 – the lackey. Lay in wait, let them think you’re being good. Let them do whatever it is that is taking their attention away from you. Let them finish whatever it is and get ready for bed. Pretend to be asleep when they tell you it’s time to go out for a pee. Let them try and get into bed with you solidly unmoving smack bang in the middle of the fluffy covers. Let them start to fall asleep balanced right on the edge of the mattress… and then bounce up to make a big fuss about going out for a pee so that you drag them outside. You don’t need them for anything, you just them to get out of bed and get cold. This also means you have already won and can move on to the next battle.

Battle 2 – the cat. Sometimes cats play a game of chicken. They sit on the corner in their little gangs and hatch plans. Vast, daring, extreme sport type plans that involve high speed and a dog in the dog’s own backyard. This must be stopped at all costs. The most brave (or perhaps most stupid) of cats lives across the road from the blue house. It naps on the front deck where it knows I can’t reach it and then taunts me from the railing. Last night, it tried for the gold medal in the X Games by trying to run through MY yard while I had nice smelly bones to chomp on after the lackey had tried three times to go to bed and my barking had her running out in her jammies to shut me up. Not so extreme you might say, a cat is fast after all and I did have a full belly. Ah yes, I say, but you didn’t hear the stupid bloody bell around it’s suicidal neck. I did. Several times we raced over to the back fence and back at full tilt with that silly tinkling followed by my big girl bark and the lackey hissing – Lucy, shut up and get inside! No. Not while there’s a game of eat-the-cat to be played out. I lost the damn thing in the trees and the dark and went back to my bones and once she saw I was comfortably crunching on them sitting in the courtyard, she went back to bed. Again. This was a ruse to get rid of the lackey and go back to chasing the cat and barking. Apparently, the lackey doesn’t like barking after bedtime. Who knew. I soon worked out that the suicidal cat was trying for my bones. Not. Going. To happen. So I buried them. Once all of them were safely hidden away, the cat got bored and went home so I went into bed. Cat nil, Lucy 4.

Battle 1 part 2 – after burying your bones, do not rub your nose and paws clean in the grass, do it on the doggy cover on the big bed. The lackey was furious and wide awake in the small dark, I was triumphant and happy.

Now all that was left to do was to turn in circles the required three times widdershins and go to sleep to the victory lullaby of the lackey calling me an inconsiderate cow. And I did let the I’ve-been-evil snuffle rise as I nodded off.

I’m Confused

The lackey is breaking her own rules and our routine is changing and I’m freaking out about this! For the last two seasons, the lackey and I have fallen into a routine that suited me beautifully and the lackey just limped along trying to keep up. After reaching the end of the lackey’s rope a few weeks ago, there have been… changes. And not in the oh-look-there’s-more-food-in-my-bowl way, oh no, it’s in the my-lackey-has-a-mind-of-her-own way. This is bad! When the lackey stayed home from work for three sleeps in a row this weekend (which is odd but okay) we cuddled more, she talked to me heaps more and we played tug-of-war and went for walks and visited Dylan (which was all very nice) but the morning routine was off, totally off. She got up and fetched my breakfast when I slobbered in her ears – which is normal. I got a sleepy scratch and a treat in the laundry – which is normal. Then the weirdness started. The lackey had not washed or changed clothes and instead of getting in the car and leaving me for the day, she pats me, tells me I’m good then shuts the bloody inside door in my face and the house goes quiet! Ooooooo-kay. So I have my normal morning, bark a bit, chase the pigeons out of the yard a bit, sleep a bit. But the lackey is still inside and when I hear noises start up and then go to check on her, the inside door is now open and the lackey is washed and dressed in normal all-day clothes. Huh? We share some vegemite toast and that’s that. Back to normal afternoon and evening – sleep, eat, tv, cuddles, bed. Then she did the odd morning thing again – then normal eat, nap, Dylan’s, bed. Then she did it a third time – then normal eat, nap, play, eat, walk, tv, bed. So I thought, right, we’ve got a new routine. So this morning, I go for the new routine except she goes back to the old routine! I’m now so confused that I wet myself... and she didn’t get mad even though I was cowering and waiting for a scalding - she seems concerned FOR me instead. When she gave me my normal treat in the laundry, she followed me outside which over the last few days has meant we are leaving the house, so I follow her into the carport and then we play chase around the car for ten minutes while I try to stay in the carport and she tries to get me out of the carport then she lets me get in the car then she picks me up, carries me to the courtyard and plops me near my second treat which she left on the ground and then she scoots back into the carport and leaves me! What’s going on?! As near as I can tell, the only benefit out of this entire debacle is that the lackey got a lot more sleep. Outrageous! And to top it all off, for my birthday, all I got was one stinking extra treat. I tell you, a few more weekends like this and I’m eating a finger or two off while she’s asleep… after I pee on her bed.

It’s been dull – no, really dull, dull, dull

Life has a routine about it at the moment. It’s been a bit of bad weather keeping us from walking down the park and back each night so we play tug-of-war till the lackey’s shoulder is dislocated or we go over to see Dylan and his lackey for food and games of tag while the lackey’s chatter away like the furless monkeys they are. There have been a few fun moments scattered about but only a few. A bit of an embarrassing admission but I fell out of bed the other night. The best spot on a windy, wet night is to be snuggled down under the blankies next to the lackey’s legs where I have back support and natural warmth. She sleeps still most of the time and lying down along her legs has worked for us – until the other night. The lackey wasn’t quite in the middle of the bed and I failed to notice this in the dark when I climbed up, stood on her head and shoved at her neck until she lifted up the blankets and let me crawl into the warm spot. I slept quite nicely next to her legs for a while but at some point, we drifted over a bit in our sleep and when I stood up for a stretch and a yawn, I managed to slip off the side of the bed. Uh-oh, bad form. I stayed very still and waited to hear if the lackey had woken up. “Are you okay Luce?” came the half asleep mutter from above. Crap – she noticed I fell. I had to save the situation and quickly. I scuttled around to the end of the bed and stayed low until the lackey asked a bit more awake “Lucy, you okay?” then I popped up with the patented Staffy grin on my face in a move that I hoped would convey – tah-dah, I meant to do that, aren’t I clever? The lackey didn’t buy it for a second. “Yeah, yeah, look at you, get up here so I can check your legs aren’t broken”. I hopped up, got a quick frisk and then a big scratch. The lackey pronounced me an idiot and rolled over to go back to sleep. I could not allow this dismissal to go unchallenged and jumped onto her shoulder and tried for a game of scratch me if you can. The half-hearted belly rub I got was enough for me to worm back under her arm and for her to collapse back into slumber. Oh well, I suppose that’s better than her rushing to the toilet from laughing at me too hard.