Picture this is you will . . .
Pet supper time at the Chez Emerson.
For some reason feeding the pets every day is a bit of a tug-of-war between me and Pup. He's one of the youngest in his family and I can just hear what he was like as a little kid, "But I did it yesterday!" Make sure you read that with the proper portion of whiney-voice. Ha!
I'm the oldest in my family so I'm used to bossing people around. As I've mentioned millions of times. I also remember that bossing didn't always work on my younger siblings.
Okay . . . so it is pet supper-time; I'm doing the honors. We have George, the lovable 75 pound dog of the huge noggin. We have Calvin, coconut-minded cat that is on Prozac (please don't ask - vet is even in awe of this), and we have the constant houseguest cat DK - or as we call her, Deekers.
I am dawdling while getting the pet dishes ready. George gets very very excited at this time of day. Hey! Wouldn't you get excited if the only thing you got to eat every day is two cups of kibble and a third can of dog-food-smelling canned crap? Yes?
I'm dawdling away at the counter, George is in the kitchen - then the dining room - then the kitchen. Getting very wound up. Whooping and barking and prancing around. We're not exactly certain, but I believe one of his prances swiped Deekers somehow. She wasn't having it. She launched an attack on George that sent him crying and yipping to the back door. Deekers had wrapped her 6 pound body - let me repeat that, her 6 pound body - around George's nose and head and had him in a death grip.
Then all hell broke loose. George yipping, Pup hollering, Barnabee calling on the phone, cat's tails puffed out, dog trying to get out back door. Even Calvin got huffy-puffy at George - I know he didn't know why.
Serious bedlam. Screaming, laughing, yipping, hissing. Pup grabbed Deekers and yelled at her. I was yelling at Pup. George was yelling to get out. Calvin was yelling just to feel part of it.
Pup was put out with me stating that if I didn't dawdle so much when feeding the pets George wouldn't get so excited. I, of course, couldn't stop laughing. None of them thought I was amusing. And Barnabee on the phone? They thought someone was being murdered.
George wouldn't come back in the house for the remainder of the day.
Pup says I'm vicious! These three look like they got over it.
5 comments:
George is obviously very sweet and reserved, or he could have taken care of the situation with a quickness! He would get along great with my sweet granddog.
The joys of pet ownership. :-)
My guy's cats always meow when he starts to call me, because he heads for the kitchen. Then they sit in front of the cabinet that the 'wet stuff' is in (he doesn't say 'cat food' because he knows it'll cause a riot). He's actually stepped on them a couple of times, and felt so bad that he gave them the wet stuff. Hmm...
Sounds like they were just airing some pent up issues they had with one another. BUT they sure look okay there in the last photo.
Oh ya .. that canned food smells pretty bad, doesn't it?
Ms A - he is the sweetest dog ever. Shush! Don't tell anyone. I like that anyone that comes to my door thinks he's a killer. Ha!
deb - you know it!
SCG - that is how clever they are! lol
Diane - I love how they just let it go and no grudge holding. I wish I could say the same for the rest of us!
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