Glad to report that Bob and Penny are getting along much
better these days. Penny got a little bigger. And she found her claws. So now
the wrestling is more of an even match, and all in good fun. Which usually
concludes with a snuggle or, at least, détente.
Which means, of course, that they are now partners in crime.
They pin me by weighing down the blankets on either side of me, so that getting
out of bed in the morning is like crawling out of a sleeping bag. They collude
to trip me up as I carry laundry on the stairs. And most importantly, anything,
on any surface, is now within their grasp.
I previously commented on Bob’s prodigious counter-surfing
skills. While impressive, he still needs to keep his back paws on the floor. Penny
is not similarly enslaved by gravity. And, just like babies, cats are instinctively
fascinated by batting things over edges. Catch a few viral videos if you doubt
me.
I’m not a big fan of cop shows, but even I know that organized crime bosses usually get nabbed by something relatively innocuous like tax
evasion or inhibiting interstate commerce. Not sure there are canine/feline
equivalent statutes. Even if there were, Bob would just look at me quizzically
and Penny would walk away huffing “Jeez – humans!”
So the best I can do is minimize the probability of the
really bad outcomes in the gangland that my home has become. Poisons, breakables,
sharp things. You know, the usual suspects.
Meanwhile, one thing is quite clear, which is obvious to
anyone who has ever lived with both a cat and a dog. The cat is clearly the brains of
the operation. And occasionally needs to remind the lesser species of that
fact.
“Nothin’ to see here, ma’am”
Bob has to accept a little embarrassment in order to access
the really good stuff at the back of the counters.
In other words, you gotta let go of control and accept help, in order to reach
further.
Good Lesson. Thanks Bob.
