“If animals could speak, the dog would be a blundering outspoken fellow; but the cat would have the rare grace of never saying a word too much.”
One of our poor pups was not feeling so well last night. As it turns out, they are both afraid of thunderstorms. We learned this with Scout during the 4th of July, when the entire week was alternating between storms and fireworks. I believe many of my neighbors felt the need to set off as many fireworks as possible as soon as the storms past each night that week. More recently, we brought Stella into our family. As it turns out, she is also not that thrilled about thunder. So, now we need two thunder vests. Lesson learned.
Besides that, they are both rather picky about when they want to be inside or outside. Sometimes the rain doesn’t bother them, but sometimes it does. Scout is a sassy teenager, for sure. She only wants something when she can’t have it, and nearly refuses to do something on command without some coaxing.
I imagine our conversations go like this.
I really want to go outside. Please open the door. I need to go. I really want to go. Look at me, please!
“Scout, you need to go outside to go potty?”
Yes. Please let me out. I can’t hold it any longer.
I open the door.
I’m not going out there. It’s raining.
“Go outside. Go potty.”
I can’t go out there.
Stella darts around her and heads outside to pee. She immediately runs back inside.
“Scout, are you going out or not? Not holding the door open for you anymore.”
Make it stop raining.
I shut the door.
Please let me out. I have to pee.
I open the door.
You didn’t make it stop raining.
Sometimes, when I get off from work, I’m super tired. I just need to change into sweats and get out of my uncomfortable work clothes, but it’s nice to see people excited to see me.
Oh my God! She’s home. Look, she’s home! She didn’t leave us.
Cam just stands and watches. He’s been home since 1:30. I’m sure they did the same to him.
Mommy is home!
Stella and Scout are both jumping on me.
You wore that to work today? Ugh, it’s so ugly and bright white. Let me fix that for you. My paws are primed with the mud where I dug a hole under the fence.
There’s no need to forget my fluffy feline children.
Gracie generally sleeps in bed with us. Columbus might if we’re not moving around too much for his taste. Izzy will only enter the bedroom if no one else is in there; otherwise, she sleeps under the guest bed (I think she only leaves to eat).
Every night, it’s the same with Gracie.
Hey, you guys trying to spoon and cuddle. Ooh, let me in. It’s so warm between your heads.
We spend a few minutes twisting our heads in various positions in order to accommodate the purring machine.
No, I order you not to move! My butt fits perfectly right here under your neck.
“Gracie, get out of the way!”
Absolutely not! The more you resist, the more my long, lush whiskers will tickle your nose. Now, fall asleep to the sound of my loud purring.
I’m not saying they run our lives, but if you read my previous post on our messy house, it would appear that they run the house and we simply live here with them.