She’s busy. Last time there were this many boxes, I went to my friends’ for a few days and came back to a new house! She promises that won’t happen this time, though she says I’ll be off to see my friends next week sometime. Even so, I’m keeping a close eye on things…
For a start, there have been lots more birds about and, you know, keeping them all off the roof is no easy task! ‘Specially since the big black things moved in. And the robin that just cocks its head and looks at me, no matter what I say!
There, there have been two-legses in my field. Now, she says that’s not true… that the fence in between the field and my garden is there because it isn’t mine. But I still have to guard it. There’s foxes and owls and rabbits and stuff. And, while she says she’d be fine having those in her garden, I know what happens if I take my eye off that field in spring. Cows.
She says she likes the cows. Would she be happy with a cow looking through her bedroom window one morning though? I think not.
And then, when the cows come, the flies do too. An she really doesn’t like those. So, I’m keeping guard.
I like to sit on the doorstep and watch the field, but when it gets a bit chilly and she starts going blue, she makes me come in and shuts the door. That’s not great most of the time, but not so bad when I’m on cow-duty, ’cause I can get up on the sofa to watch and see through the bushes better. No sign of them yet, but I know the two-legses are getting the field ready for them. You watch, I’ll have a quick snooze one of these days and they’ll be there when I wake up.
She says she appreciates my efforts, but that I’m being silly. That we can all share the space and that the grass is green on both sides of the fence. Fine words from a two-legs who is stocking up on fly papers…
She frustrates me sometimes, she really does.
At present, she’s no fun at all. I even have to take drastic measures to remind her to play with me. If there is one thing I know will always get her attention it is the tap dancing. If I tap dance with my claws on her wooden floors, she says she can’t concentrate. So I dance on the spot… and sometimes I sing at her too… she has to turn around then to talk to me… and I’m ready with a toy to shove in her hand.
This isn’t about me, you know. She needs to play. Needs to get a bit of exercise and get away from boxes and screens. The ‘mad dog’ act will usually get her moving.
Speaking of which, she’s been busy long enough. Maybe I can get her to take me for another walk?
Worth a try!