Scratchings-and-Sniffings

Posted: 01 Dec 2009 09:09 AM PST

Wabby, here. I'm feeling comfortable in this new home, but...I have to worry - are we done, yet? It seems like we've been in a hundred different places, lately, and I thought a lot of them were great places to live. But, Mom and Tom didn't stay long.

We've been in this house for a whole week now (I think that's how long we've been here, I can't tell time very well)...and I have some nice places all picked out to sleep in. In fact, the one room that I like the best has a big black bag in it, so when I squeeze around the bad, there's just enough room for me to nap...and no one can find me. :-) (I saw that smiley face thing on another blog...I like it!)

Yesterday, I think it was yesterday, the days are all a big blur to me, mostly I just pay attention to treat time and dinnertime, but anyway, yesterday there was a dog here. A kind of big dog. Mom might have already told you about this creature - all skinny legs and long-nosed. But, from my perspective, she's a bit different.

She's so tall...way taller than the dog we used to have. And she's mostly all black. All in all, she's just a dog. When I decided to come out from napping, and found her sitting on the top on the steps, she properly turned her face away, waiting for me to give her permission to talk to me. Then, she just stared at me.

Honestly, some dogs can't figure out the right, polite, way to communicate with a cat, no matter how smart they are. I mean, I hear that this dog is really smart - and clever, too. But, she's just another silly dog, to me. Finally, I had to brush by her, to get downstairs where my dinner bowl is.

Word is that she'll be visiting often, with Chloe - one of the other people who used to live at my house a long time ago. That's fine. I don't mind. As long as she keeps her place - as long as she knows whose house this is (my house, not hers)...I'll allow her to come visit.

I will admit that towards the end, before she left, she sat down in front of me (while I was so patiently waiting for Mom to get my dinner) and she barked. That's right, she barked! The nerve! Maybe she thought it would startle me. I don't know. Maybe she thought I would bark back - dogs are like that, they think you should communicate with them in their noisy, silly language.

I stood my ground, though. She could tell from my eyes that I was not interested in conversation. And, if I had been interested in talking, I wouldn't stoop to barking. I have my ways...softer, gentler, more insistent than mere barking.

Finally, Chloe took her home. On a leash. Now, doesn't that just tell you everything? Cats don't walk on leashes...only dogs. We all know why.

Yes, because dogs need to be ruled. And, I shall rule as Queen, over Twiggy, the Chloe-dog, and any other dog that comes into my new house.