Monday, September 20, 2010

Mel in the Morning

First thing I saw when I woke up this morning with her tongue sticking out in my face:

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Schedule IV: Catnip

The other day my father arrived to visit Mel and I (well mostly me), and in an attempt to warm up to his "grandkitty" brought with him presents from "Gammy and Gampy."  Yes we're a weird family.  If only you knew.

Among the treasures of gold, frankincense, myrrh, fuzzy mice and jingle balls, lay a true treasure:  two dimebags of catnip.  Yes, truly, that is what they were.

The plan somewhat worked, instead of attacking his suitcase per normal, Mel was distracted by her new found street cred, tearing into the plastic with her teeth and consuming it raw.  This lead to running around in vicious circles.  Attacking my couch.  Doing Mel tornadoes up and down the hallway.  Causing general frenzy.  Reminding me of the cartoon in which the train goes:  "AH-OOOO-WA" and lets out a giant puff of steam.

After approximately two minutes, her eyes glazed over and she strettttcccchhhhheeddd out across the floor, head on her paws gazing at my dad like he was her hero.

And speaking of frankincense and myrrh, my father proceeded into a resounding rendition of Brewer and Shipley's 1970s hit "one toke over the line, sweet Jesus, one toke over the line" as she lay prostrate on my living room carpet in a pile of dried herb, delirious.

"One toke over the line sweet Jesus, one toke over the line..."

Friday, September 10, 2010

Buddy's Letter Home

Dear Dad,

You've been replaced by an awesome human!!  Not that you're not awesome, just there's another awesome person now for me to protect and play with!!  And she is the SAME SIZE as ME!!!!

I'm a little confused as to what happened to you, but she keeps telling me that you'll be back soon.  I hope so because even though she's really great (and smells like plants and cat), I really miss you.

When she first brought me to this new place I was a little scared because there was this HUGE gray spiky thing that sounded like a constipated rhinoceros blocking the ENTIRE doorway.  It was also spitting at us and hissing and it had really sharp things coming out of its mouth and feet.  I think this is another c-a-t.  But I've always thought cats were something to play with, not evil.  Oh well.  She sort of comes out and acts like she wants to be nice and then she swats at my nose.  She won't let me walk past her in the hallway and she keeps blocking the doorway to the rooms I go into and then won't move to let me out.  I don't think she likes me that much and I get a little jealous when she gets attention from the human.  I'd really like to get the chance to sniff her butt at some point though.

This new person doesn't seem to like when I try to get on her couch and when I tried to sit in her lap she made an oof sound, but I think she liked it.  I wanted to let you know that I've been doing a VERY good job at protecting her and barking at EVERYONE to make them go away.  She yells "no!" but I think she's thanking me for doing such a great job.  Tonight she said, "You're going to make me tear my brains out," and I barked even louder.  I'm pretty proud of myself.

Oooh and she has the BEST sticks!!  They smell like all kinds of wonderful good-ness.  Dead things and poop and mold and there are a bunch of them down in the sewer drain.  For some reason she will only throw clean sticks for me, which is ok I guess...they just don't taste nearly as good.  You won't believe this but today she actually told me that she couldn't throw the stick if I kept eating it.  I thought that was the point!?

She makes me sit and stay before we go on a walk and then she gives me treats when I walk next to her.  I like her enough...does she think she is bribing me to like her?  I never let her go anywhere without me in the house!!  I just want to go smell everything so badly!!  I'm not sure if I like getting treats or following my nose the best, so I kind of walk in a big circle doing both.  She's getting more stingy on the treats, but she keeps calling me a "good boy."  If I'm a good boy, where are my treats!?

Yesterday I thought she made something delicious for me.  It turns out it was her dinner, not mine.  Oops.  I tried to be very good after that last night to say I was sorry.  She called it a veggie burger and it was ddeeeeee-licious!! Dad, I want to eat veggie burgers alllll the time now!!  Can I?  Can I please?

She says I'm off on another adventure tomorrow and that she'll miss me.  I'll sure miss her - and veggie burgers and sewer sticks!!  But probably not the c-a-t.

Miss you Dad.


Thursday, September 9, 2010

All's Quiet on the Western Front...Sort Of

Since we’ve had Buddy staying with us, there has been a lack of privacy for myself…mainly in that the dog insists on being within 3 inches of my person at all time or else barks, whines, or otherwise freaks out.

And yes, this includes taking a shower and using the bathroom. 

At first I fought it.  But like the joke about the dog sleeping on the bed (he hasn’t won that battle yet by the way), I soon gave in so that I could pee in peace.

So now the routine is for me to leave the door open while I do my business (I guess if the dog has to do it in the open, so do I). 

Tonight, Mel was particularly wicked - beyond the usual growls that are comparable to rolling thunder.

As I sat reading my magazine (I know it’s TMI, but I’m setting the scene for you), Buddy sprawled out on the tile floor, pretty much filling up the rest of the space in my bathroom, but very happy that he hadn’t lost sight of me for even a brief moment.  Shortly after, the dog looked from me to right around the corner.  He inched himself up and stretched himself out to extend his body length as much as he could to get the best of both worlds and strained to see out of the bathroom.  Suddenly he jolted back, but continued to stare. 

Next to the entrance to my bathroom is my dresser, upon which the Diabolical Beasty had perched herself, just around the corner of the bathroom. 

Torn between venturing more than body warmth’s distance from me and the glaring cat, Buddy wriggled back and forth on my bathroom floor and began to whimper. 

After washing my hands, I peeked around the corner of the door to find Mel in a staring contest with the dog and a look upon her face that was absolute delicious enjoyment of her own evil and torment that she was causing. 

If I ever lacked the conviction that my cat is an evil beast, I do not anymore after seeing the Cheshire cat grin upon her muzzle. 

I chuckled, saying “you’re a real bitch Mel” and walked out of the bathroom.

And for one of the first times in the past 3 days, I now had 3 feet of space between me and the dog. 

Held captive in the bathroom by Mel’s evil glare, the dog refused to emerge.  Taking advantage of this, I did a quick switch of laundry and put away some dishes – neither of which I’ve been able to accomplish in the past few days for fear of immediate dog slobber soiling. 

I came back to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and in an attempt to relieve some of Buddy’s anxiety I partially closed the door to the bathroom. 

The next thing I knew, an 80 pound, shivering, shaking weimereiner had himself pressed into me with all his might.  Cabinet knobs are not exceedingly comfortable when they are in places they shouldn’t be while being stuck between a frightened pup and bathroom cabinetry. 

Cowering behind the door and practically trying to crawl inside of me to get closer, I peered around the edge to see Mel, sitting quietly, thumping her tail, at the entrance of the bathroom.  She knew very well that she was cornering us in that bathroom.  It was a deliberate act of evil. 

Well, I hate to say it, but I wasn’t about to lose an arm while trying to move her, and she is the 2nd in line of the household matriarchy.  There was no way in all hell that Buddy was going to go past the fang-dangling ball of fluff.

So for about 7 minutes tonight, I, and an 80-pound dog, once again, were held prisoners by my own cat, in my own bathroom.  

What's 80 pounds, half as tall as I am, and scared shitless of Mel?

Recently, I offered to take in another roommate - a friend's dog.

I reasoned that the dog is not a cat and perhaps Mel's alpha tendencies would not show towards a species other than feline or human.  I told myself that she would adapt to the dog because otherwise, in her mind, the dog would eat her.  I thought, "finally!  she will be put in her place!"

I brought the dog home on Monday, Labor Day around 9 am.  Buddy was rather freaked out when I picked him up and after the (eventful) drive home, I was looking forward to Mel getting a taste of her own medicine.  

It was a struggle to get the dog upstairs as he follows his nose and there are many interesting things to smell in my building such as the other dog, the apartment with cats, the incense my neighbors burn, the place where a dead animal carcass was left and the homeless guy under the stairs.  

Finally at the top of the stairs (victory!), I put the key in the door and heard her royal diabolicalness on the other side.  "Mroww mrow mrow mrrrrrrowwwwwww."  

Bwahahahaha.  This was it.  My chance to recover from three years of abuse!

Now I have to say, I was slightly worried that this dog was going to attack my baby, but at the same time, I could tell he was so excited that he would just be playing and wanting to sniff.  I got a firm grip on his leash and gave myself some room to be pulled, backing up halfway across the landing from my door.  

I leaned far over and pushed the door open. 

The dog rushed in. 

The dog rushed out. 

Whimpering, yelping, and made a dash down the stairs towards the much safer homeless guy sleeping under the stairs.  

Mind you, this occurred in the course of seconds.  

Like a cartoon I was left with my arm still outstretched from holding the leash, and standing towards the open door, dumbfounded.  

And there sat Mel. 

Preening and cleaning her face in the most indignant way, fluffed up to nearly twice her normal size, eyes black like her heart and fangs of steel protruding from her jaw (ok that's for dramatic effect, her fangs only FEEL like steel, but I do think her heart is black).  While you couldn't really tell, the noise was definitely coming from her and it sounded what I imagined a beached whale sounds like. 

I closed the door as if I had peeked behind the wrong one.  Next time, I would open the right door, the dog would go in and the cat would be put in her place.  

I went downstairs after the dog and coaxed (yes, coaxed) him back up the stairs.  

"Buddddddy, come on pretty boy."  

I made him sit while I opened the door.  I stood behind him so that there would be no running away.  

I cracked it and instantly I had an 80 pound dog between my legs, whimpering and trying with all his might to flee back down the stairs.  

The struggle went on for about 3 minutes, which is a long time when you are fighting with such a big dog to get him somewhere he doesn't want to be.  Mel stood her ground the whole time, not once backing off or moving.  Just staying a fluffy ball of growling teeth and holding her own, hissing and spitting and being generally unagreeable.  

Well at this point, Buddy and I were cornered in the entrance - me waiting for him to get her to back off and him waiting for me to get her to back off.  Apparently neither of us have any balls.  

Eventually I made a move towards her and the hostage situation was dispelled.  

In the meantime, the 80 pound weimaraner is terrified of my 10 pound feline who was most certainly NOT put in her place.