So here we are on my mom’s bed. I’m the one on the left. Creampuff is sacked out on the cat cushion my mom got about twenty years ago. Pumpkin is checking out the scene. And I’m being my usual patient, long-suffering self.
“Oh come on,” my mom says, “You guys have it made. If you were down at the animal shelter you’d be getting walks once a day – if you’re lucky. Here you get walked FOUR times a day. And sometimes you go running with your dog walker. What more could a dog want?”
Well, maybe one or more fewer cats?
This is The Look. I’m staring intently at my mom. She’s trying to figure out if I am saying, “Lunch! Now!” or, “Out! Now!”
She usually tries “Out” first. I can’t say as I blame her. LOL.
We have many dog and cat beds. We also have TWO kitty condos. But we all want the same fuzzy bed.
So I’m lying peacefully on my bed when Pumpkin comes over to check out the scene. You can guess what happened. The “Before” and “After” are about 15 minutes apart.
The winner of the Academy Award for Best Feline Dramatic Performance is none other than our own Pumpkin the Cat. Weighing in at a hefty fourteen pounds, Pumpkin has managed to communicate that she is a poor, starving stray who deserves more food.
My mom falls for it. “Maybe just a few crunchies,” she says.
She’s getting tougher, though. Pumpkin fills my dog bed nicely. She’s given up on crawling into the kitty-sized furniture. So sometimes she just gives Pumpkin a pat on the head and says, “It’s not dinner time yet.”
As for me, I get my food carefully measured at each of my two daily meals. My mom is terrified that I’ll get fat and put too much pressure on my slender leg joints.
“You like to run and jump, Gracie,” she says. “We’ll make sure you keep moving.”
Tough love. At least I get to wangle treats from all the soft-hearted neighbors.
The best part of being a city dog is that I get to visit all kinds of cultural hot spots.
On Saturday, my mom and I went on a scavenger hunt to visit a dozen or so places in the neighborhood. As we posted earlier, the event was organized by BoneJour Pet Supplies to benefit Paws.
One of our stops was the Bluestone Art Gallery in our neighborhood. They gave me this beautiful bandanna so I could look like I’m part of the Halloween festivities.
My mom had forgotten her cell phone, so Jeanine took a few photos. Who says a dog can’t enjoy art? My mom admired the fabric art on the wall, but luckily some of the paintings were more at dog’s eye level.
Thanks, Jeanine! .
A few days ago my mom came home to find a twenty dollar bill chewed up. She immediately identified me as the guilty party.
“Gracie, if the bank won’t replace this bill, it’s coming right out of your treat budget. No treats for six months. Maybe a year!”
No big deal, mom. The fire fighters always give me a milkbone when we stop by the Arch Street station. The new mini-restaurant gives me treats. I get a treat every time we go to BoneJour, which is pretty often, since Pumpkin is eating us out of house and home.
I really scored on Halloween. Our local pet supply store, BoneJour sponsored a sort of scavenger hunt. My mom took me around. We went to a whole bunch of places. Each time I got a treat. After the first treat, my mom announced, “Gracie, we’re holding these goodies for later. We don’t want you to get sick.”
Bummer. But I’ll get them eventually. I saw them disappear into the treat box. And she forgot to put away the BEST treat, which I managed to find and gulp down while she was putting things away.
“You can NOT get sick in the middle of the hurricane,” my mom warned me.
No worries, mom. It’s a wholesome treat and I’m keeping it inside my tummy where it belongs.
Bluestone Art Gallery gave me this beautiful bandanna. That’s my Halloween costume this year. Free!
My mom is SO excited today! She’s having trouble focusing on her work, which is not good, because she needs to earn more money to buy treats for ME. (Not that we’re broke, but when she earns money she spends more on her furry family. Especially me.)
She got the word from her orthopedic surgeon, who apparently is like my vet only for people. My mom likes Dr. Freiman because she doesn’t mess around. “She’s direct and to to point and she doesn’t try to sell me on more treatment,” my mom says. “I’m a minimalist, for me and for my animals.”
True. I’m not exactly stocking up on pills.
So she’s feeling all happy and excited, which would usually mean extra walks and treats for me. But do I get anything?
“You’re still recovering from your tummy upset,” my mom said. “Keep resting and eating that rice.”
Right. Like I really have a choice.
I’m feeling a little under the weather today. My mom freaked out and put me on a diet of rice … boiled rice. I do gulp it down but it’s not the same as my usual dog food.
My mom is holding firm. “I don’t want to get up at 3 AM to take you for a walk,” she said. “We live in a pretty safe neighborhood, but this IS a big city.”
I’m getting better and by tomorrow she’ll start to give me more of my own food. Meanwhile, my wonderful dog sitter Jaime is coming to take me for a walk this evening. My mom has to take a class. That’s a good thing: she comes home in a good mood and that means more treats … or for tonight, an extra bowl of rice.
Pumpkin seems to be a cat who follows proper etiquette. My mom says, “Pumpkin is such a diplomat! Maybe we should let her handle the Middle East crisis.”
Clearly my mom gets carried away.
However, even I am impressed. Here’s a photo of Pumpkin approaching my basket. Notice how respectful she looks. After all I’m the princess here.
You’ll also notice toys all over the floor.
And I’m in a grouchy mood because my tummy was upset when we went for a walk this morning and my mom decreed, “No breakfast!” She promised to get me some rice later today. Yippee.
Pumpkin’s no fool. She’s not hissing or yowling. My mom predicts we’ll all be buddies, especially when the cold weather comes and we all huddle together on the blankets.