All Clean!

All Clean!
Home From The Groomer

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Dog My Cats

My dad (he'll turn 90 in June) still says it. "Well dog my cats" is his cleaner version of "son of a bitch!" Lately, I have been treated to a variety of illustrations of the phrase. Grace dogs my cats whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Lucia, as I have mentioned, likes the chase games. She will deliberately hang her tail off the edge of whatever she is sitting on and twitch it to entice Grace to chase her. On the other hand, sometimes she just wants to curl up in a lap and sleep. If Grace sees that happening, she just can't seem to resist the temptation to jump up and poke Lucia with that busy nose bone of hers.

Perfesser Remus J. Lupin, however, has no tolerance at all for puppy shenanigans. He is willing to come downstairs now, but only if he has a pretty good chance of avoiding the stupid dog. The dogging of this cat evokes hissing, growling and vicious swipes with lethal claws - so far not a deterrent, but more of an enticement.

Out and about, Grace is always on the lookout for cats to dog, and the neighborhood does not disappoint. Just today we were walking through a part of the world I call "cat alley" where dozens of felines seem to live. We came upon a yard with six cats on the porch. Grace practically yanked my arm out of its socket lunging at them. A big calico hopped down, back arched, prancing sideways, hissing and growling. No deterrent. I had to drag her with all my strength to keep her from being ripped to shreds. Other times she has poked that nose into holes in lattice under houses and been repulsed, so far without injury.

I keep thinking she's going to learn to leave the kitties alone, but my hope is waning.

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