The cat is driving the dog nuts...
This isn't a story for everybody. Mostly it's for a person that for whatever reason isn't speaking to me again. No, in the great "do over", I'm not gonna do that again. It's a just a story about Ba the cat and what he's doing to my dog and what he's doing to the rest of us.
First off, Ba seems to be happy to be home. He's using his box like he should. He's actually grooming himself again. He's eating well and Grandma is happier than I've seen her in months because Ba is here. She dotes on him.
Dotes.
Ba is king of this here house. Not me. Certainly not the dog. I guess I do have a soft heart these days and what was a love/hate relationship between me and "fat ass" has changed into something I never dreamed of.
Simba isn't the same pussycat who tried to poop in my shoe. He's old. He's frail. But he's still Simba. It took him seriously about a week to venture out of the little bathroom. He's now walking about the house again like he owns the joint.
Saturday night, I woke up to find Ba on the bed. On "his" side of the bed. As I write this, that's where he's at. When his brother Snot (RIP not-not) got arthritis and couldn't jump up on the bed, the Mrs. procured a little white step-stool that he could use to climb up on the bed. There wasn't room in the little bedroom to deploy said step stool for Ba, so I moved back into the big bedroom. Yes, the stool is there and yes he used it to climb up onto the bed just a few minutes ago. Hey, he's old. Almost twenty, if I remember correctly and that's old for a cat. That's a lot of old in human years and I have a bit of respect for him. His time is short and why shouldn't I try to make his last days as comfortable as they can be?
Ba spent some time making me pet him. He still meows when you pet him. He always did that and it cracked me up that he purrs and meows at the same time. Ba doesn't meow like a regular cat, though. Except when you're petting him. Most of the time he just squeaks.
Like I said, the relationship has changed. Me and Ba are buddies now. And the dog's not happy about it.
The Mrs. used to terrorize the dog. She'd chase the dog off the bed and pretty much the dog dives under the bed still when it's bedtime. She doesn't come up until later on in the night. She's trying to get used to ceding to the pussycat. Ba wanted loved and I was petting him when Katie decided she was jealous and jumped up on the bed and laid down in Ba's spot.
She didn't stay long.
She's been trying to sneak up on Ba's food, too. I imagine we'll figure out something to do about that but we can't put it where we used to because he's just too old to jump up there and get it. Katie's a piggy and pretty sneaky when it comes to getting food.
She's having a hard time. She knew Ba. She's still afraid of him. As I said before, Ba still hates her. I don't think Katie is smart enough to figure out the Ba she knew isn't the same frail, grumpy old man of a kitty that lives with us now. Maybe that's a good thing. Why shouldn't Simba act that way? After all, he's home...
He seems content and back to as much of his old self that he can be at his age. He's having a bath right now. On his bed, in his room.
He's happy to be home.
First off, Ba seems to be happy to be home. He's using his box like he should. He's actually grooming himself again. He's eating well and Grandma is happier than I've seen her in months because Ba is here. She dotes on him.
Dotes.
Ba is king of this here house. Not me. Certainly not the dog. I guess I do have a soft heart these days and what was a love/hate relationship between me and "fat ass" has changed into something I never dreamed of.
Simba isn't the same pussycat who tried to poop in my shoe. He's old. He's frail. But he's still Simba. It took him seriously about a week to venture out of the little bathroom. He's now walking about the house again like he owns the joint.
Saturday night, I woke up to find Ba on the bed. On "his" side of the bed. As I write this, that's where he's at. When his brother Snot (RIP not-not) got arthritis and couldn't jump up on the bed, the Mrs. procured a little white step-stool that he could use to climb up on the bed. There wasn't room in the little bedroom to deploy said step stool for Ba, so I moved back into the big bedroom. Yes, the stool is there and yes he used it to climb up onto the bed just a few minutes ago. Hey, he's old. Almost twenty, if I remember correctly and that's old for a cat. That's a lot of old in human years and I have a bit of respect for him. His time is short and why shouldn't I try to make his last days as comfortable as they can be?
Ba spent some time making me pet him. He still meows when you pet him. He always did that and it cracked me up that he purrs and meows at the same time. Ba doesn't meow like a regular cat, though. Except when you're petting him. Most of the time he just squeaks.
Like I said, the relationship has changed. Me and Ba are buddies now. And the dog's not happy about it.
The Mrs. used to terrorize the dog. She'd chase the dog off the bed and pretty much the dog dives under the bed still when it's bedtime. She doesn't come up until later on in the night. She's trying to get used to ceding to the pussycat. Ba wanted loved and I was petting him when Katie decided she was jealous and jumped up on the bed and laid down in Ba's spot.
She didn't stay long.
She's been trying to sneak up on Ba's food, too. I imagine we'll figure out something to do about that but we can't put it where we used to because he's just too old to jump up there and get it. Katie's a piggy and pretty sneaky when it comes to getting food.
She's having a hard time. She knew Ba. She's still afraid of him. As I said before, Ba still hates her. I don't think Katie is smart enough to figure out the Ba she knew isn't the same frail, grumpy old man of a kitty that lives with us now. Maybe that's a good thing. Why shouldn't Simba act that way? After all, he's home...
He seems content and back to as much of his old self that he can be at his age. He's having a bath right now. On his bed, in his room.
He's happy to be home.
Comments
Post a Comment