Drastic measures have been taken but only after some careful consideration of the dilemnas of the parties concerned. Those parties comprise of my old delicate, somewhat prim cat Frances, my adult son working at an exciting new job in the big city about two hours away, Miss Moneypenny ,his year old bulldog staying with me for a couple of months and myself, retired teacher. This assessment has come to be as a result of the full moon and Miss Moneypenny getting in touch with her inner werewolf.
Two days ago, the moon was full and Miss Moneypenny’s behaviour went from somewhat stubborn to somewhat obnoxious. She would not let me read my book and demanded my attention by jumping forcibly on my lap. While playing with toys it became quite evident that she wanted to tussle and wrestle rather than just have fun. Her expression changed from wide eyed innocent to ‘I’m gonna’ get you!”. Her funny little gurumphs and snuffles turned into big old yappy barks. When I felt the nip on my hand I knew she was at her limit of goodnatured play and succumbing to the dark side.
Responding to my big NO with a she wolf battle stance and a saucy head snap which is best described as a “oh no you didn’t!…” kind of attitude she tried to take dominant status in the house. I put her in the crate and walked away and she slept all afternoon.
So considering all the needs of everyone concerned I had to re-establish some control over the situation and reclaim some authority in the house. I picked up every toy and chew bone and stored them away out of sight. Nothing was left to out to play with or left on the floor for me to trip over. Food bowls were kept empty except for water. When Miss Moneypenny was released from her crate rest session she was taken outside for her walk and breaks and returned to a quiet, no toy, no food situation that seemed to intrigue her interest for about an hour. She walked around and around the coffee table looking at me with little humble head snaps as if to say “Oh no, you didn’t take my stuff all away and I’ll be good if you give it back, I promise…please give me back my Lion, Rhino, chew things, Mr. Rope and my food.”
We started with food but only after she responded well to a command. Delighted with her food, and another outside break she came back in the house waiting for the next treat but she was commanded to get on her bed and stay. Well, she got on the dog bed but she will never learn stay. Too stubborn about learning stay, so whatever. Anyway, she seemed rather pleased that I had adopted this more military approach to dog boarding and adapted nicely. I’m almost enjoying my dog sitting duties again.
She still needs constant supervision to avoid chewing disasters but seems more at ease and willing to do most of what I command her to do. Bored quickly with my quiet ways of reading, working on the computer and watching costume dramas on television she starts rooting around my stuff in another room looking for something to chew, eat and destroy. Like now.
Old, delicate, cat Frances remains outside during the day and well into the night as a survival tactic with her issues of dog integration into the household unresolved. My adult son continues to work in the big city at his new job responding cryptically to my frequent emails outlining the pros and cons of HIS dog. My frustration level has been reached but my good nature has been restored by taking account of the situation and doing what I had to do. This post ends here while I go and get her out of my bedroom and put her into her crate again for another little rest. Sometimes you just have to be a bitch.
An Embarrassment of Freedom 