Wednesday, March 04, 2009
My Life As Norman Whiskers:This Dog Needs A Lobotomy
Now that I have a bit of a handle on the routines of the Christie household, and the habits of its particular residents, I am beginning to see how I can gain more and more power. Ultimately, I would like to be King of this place; in fact, compared to my previous life as a vagabond, I'll even settle for Queen Mum.
Concerning the dirty business of re-training the dog, Hell Hound, I must say that it is finally going my way. Early on I realized how terribly stupid she is, and plotted to use this fact to my advantage.
I have her thinking that I am a General of some sort. I give her assignments and missions. When she succeeds, I get prizes such as MEATZ and sneaky time lounging on top of the kitchen table, (a secret violation of My Lady's rules). When Hell Hound fails she gets in trouble and I watch her get thrown outside or scolded. This arrangement works quite well. You see, Hell Hound is not able to control her urges and feelings. If she smells food, she must seek it out, whether it be in the garbage or in the hand of a dwarf. If she feels a sudden gratitude for the toilet bowl after taking a mid-afternoon drink there, she must groom it, lovingly. This very strange behavior leads the humans to think that she is quite odd. She acts without thinking ahead of consequences, and therefore, she is very bad. In fact, this dog gets in trouble with My Lady at least five times a day, which allows me to appear like a shining example of a superior pet. My digressions are never expected and all is blamed on Hell Hound.
The ghost cat in the attic advises me to take the next step in controlling the mind of the beast by leading her to her demise. The plan is that I am to convince Hell Hound to eat a rabid squirrel in the Spring. Princess Leah Cat is indifferent about Hell Hound's fate. She fears and loathes the beast. Scutch the ghost cat wants to shred her. Strangely, I find myself torn about this matter. Don't misunderstand me, please! I am NOT growing in affection for this horrid creature, but we have become some sort of odd team. We're like Laurel and Hardy, Garfield and Odie, or Moe and Curly. I'm the smart, short one, and she is the big, dumb one who does everything I say. A SPLENDID match, I dare say!
Dear Internet Traveler,
Welcome to my writer's blog, started about six years ago for fun. Over time, the writing I have posted has ranged from personal reflection, to Long Island history research, to tall tales for my own amusement, to feature articles for local newspapers. As you can see from topics listed here, I travel in many mental directions in regard to interests. Click on the tabs and labels to explore my strange mind which senses that you may be having a criss-cross day. If so, perhaps this blog will distract you. However, please note that if you tell me my blog is beautiful just to get me to advertise rhinoplasty surgery and cheap drugs from Canada in your comment, I will ask the gods to give you a tail that cannot be concealed.