I almost made it

Freedom is such a movable target. I have the freedom to wander around the house while the lackey is home – except for Nan and Pop’s bedroom. I have the freedom of the backyard – except for the gated off area around the car and the bins. I have the freedom to eat what I want when I want – provided the lackey learns my tastes. I am free to sleep any time I want – except for when the lackey wants to go to work and I have to move from the big bed to my mat. I can get a scratch whenever the lackey is around – except when she’s sleeping or eating or typing or in the small room next to the sink.

Yesterday, I thought I had the freedom to go over and visit the yummy, err, nice cats across the road. I was wrong in this as well as I quickly found a huge except clause. The lackey and Nanna were hosing down the plants in the front garden and the lackey had not quite closed the outer gate due to the hose running out of it. Nanna was changing spray thingies and doing stuff next to the fence and I sat and watched. And waited. Watched and waited. Then Nanna decided to go out to check on the lackey and she thought I was far enough away that she could open the gate wide and take her time getting through it. HA! Wrong! I was out and into the road before they knew what hit them. They both shouted at me but I didn’t care, there were cats to be found. I made it over into the yard which had quite conveniently left both big roller gates all the way open and I could bolt in past their cars and into the cat playground. Where were they? I could hear the lackey pounding closer and her tone was not very nice at all so I ignored her completely. I got past the bird cage, past the little pond and around the side of the house and the lackey thought she had me cornered in a one way out garden path. The neighbour lady chatted to the lackey and while her attention was diverted I shot past her and into their backyard proper. Where were they? The neighbour lady and the lackey then teamed up to corner me and I could tell the cats were off somewhere else so I plopped down on the grass and waited for the hand on my collar to drag me home. The neighbour lady was not upset with me – I guess because her cats were not home. The lackey was boiling mad at this point and I had just started telling her off for not letting me wander free in the street when Nanna swooped in and picked me up. Picked. Me. Up. Now how was I meant to argue with that? She’s old, my toenails are nice and strong, I would have hurt her, so I licked her face like it was all a big joke and let her take me home.

To say that the lackey was mad would be like saying cats are only mildly irritating. I tried to read her mind but it was in a mess trying to decide whether to yell at me or at Nanna or just cry or cuddle me because I was safe. I was all prepared to wash her face if she picked the last one when she tromped inside, told Pop to take me for a walk and poured a drink of that fizzy stuff she likes.

So then I want for a half walk with Pop. He’s slower than the lackey and we don’t go as far but I’m sort of free for a little bit and he lets me pick where we go instead of the lackey’s way of making me walk like a lady and play nice.

So freedom is a flighty thing. You can have it for minutes or moments or hours. It all depends on whether or not what you need to be free fits inside the limits that are placed around you.

We finally have a connection

For some time now, the lackey’s brain has been so clogged up with other stuff that I haven’t been able to get a word into and through her chaotic human brain. Sorry about that, my loyal followers but while I was trying to get in, I picked up a phrase that the lackey kept using – sometimes real life just gets in the way.

It all started two full moons ago when Pop had to go to the vet. No sooner had my lackey and Dylan’s lackey discussed this at length that the lackey and I head over there one sunny afternoon for a play date with Dylan. I did notice that Dylan’s lackey picked us up in her car and that the lackey had a much larger than normal treat bag with her but hey, that’s a good thing – or so I thought. Anyway, Dylan and I got to go mental in the backyard for a bit as both lackeys got in the car and headed off but only Dylan’s lackey came home! I’d been dumped! Bad lackey.

I stayed with Dylan and his lackey for a whole week – a week of no sleeping on the bed, a week of being demoted to beta, maybe lower some days if Dylan’s lackey was grumpy. Fewer treats, less kisses and cuddles. I was neglected I tell you! But gee we had fun when Dylan’s lackey went to work. The barking, the digging, the chasing – marvellous. I did get to listen to the lackey on that human phone thing – Dylan’s lackey called me over and I could hear my lackey far away and couldn’t scent her at all but at least I knew she missed me. A lot.

And then my lackey came home! I was so excited I may have peed myself just a little bit. My tail was wagging so hard I could barely stand and she gave me the bestest biggest cuddle and scratch and belly rub combination ever. We went home and I was alpha again! Treats, cuddles, the big bed, it was all back to normal. The lackey was okay too because Pop had come home from the vets all fixed up but she checked with Nanna every day for a while just to be sure. She didn’t even get to stay home with me for a few days, it was straight back to work for her so I missed out on two weekends in a row having my lackey to myself. Bugger it.

So I thought that her brain would calm down and I could take over again. Wrong. Her brain went even more messy as things at work are apparently hugely busy. This has continued now for weeks and the lackey has come home many nights upset and tired or both and some nights when we go for a walk, she is so snarly over work things, she walks so fast that I don’t need to pull on the harness to speed her up! Some nights I even walk beside her for a while as I’ve already had my fast bit trying to stay ahead of her. This is a good thing for both of us and we have bonded even closer. I don’t panic when she gets home any more as I know absolutely that I will get my big cuddle and my treat after we get inside and the lackey puts her shoulder bag down. I don’t beg for half of her dinner anymore as I know for a rock hard certainty that I will get the scraps after she’s done and my biscuits will always be there waiting for me. All we need to work on now is sharing the big bed. I still want my side and she still seems to think it’s her bed. I’ll keep kicking her and standing on her and licking her face in the wee dark until she realises that she’ll get more sleep if she goes out and uses the lounge. Or the laundry pile. I can vouch from experience that the spare doona on the bedroom floor is also quite comfy to sleep on. She should try it…