A Visit With the Catdog
Bored, bored, bored. I need a good book or a new project or something. Crap.
Nothing much happening here, except Grady has now gotten to be about five pounds and isn't even five months old yet. He's going to be a monster. He's also one of these damn things which is a really doggy freakin' kitty-cat. He plays fetch and is a total face-licker and jumps all over anybody who visits. I don't even want to talk about how he always has to sit on my shoulder when I'm at the computer or the cat-hat behavior when I'm trying to sleep.
When I got a free spotted kitty I thought I was just getting a little mongerel, not some fancy Ocicat. "Bite my spotted ass," Grady says.
So I have invited into my home a Catdog, that mythical animal that combines some of the worst traits of both cats and dogs.
Here we have the usual climbing business that cats do just to piss their owners off. This usually happens about 6 am in one of the windows next to the bed or right as I'm dropping off to sleep, but sometimes he'll do it in the afternoon, just to mix things up.
Ahhh, a guilty dog expression, because you know cats never feel guilty about crap. Who knows what the hell he's done, or is plotting to do while my back is turned. See, cats plot and plan but dogs feel all guilty about it. His little catdog brain is probably having an overload right now.
Like most dogs, he enjoys digging in the dirt, not to crap in it like a cat but just for the sheer joy of flinging dirt everywhere. Or maybe to bury something. Who the hell knows. This is what I came home to a couple of weeks ago. Yaay, thanks Grady! So I swept it all up and put the smaller pot in the bigger cactus to (hopefully) cover up some of the dirt so he wouldn't dig again.
Of course I totally failed. He decided the very next day to tunnel underneath the little pot...
...and fling dirt all over the sofa and my knitting--which incidentally I haven't been able to do any of because he yanks on the yarn and the needles. I've since had to repot everything and put it all in much smaller pots so there's less dirt to tempt him and I've had to build little wire cages over some of the more fragile little plants he likes to roll around in and put rocks and glass pebbles in the larger ones to cover up what little dirt is left.
"Ha ha," he says. "I can dig up the little ones too!" The little bastard is relentless.
