The cat shrink is coming this afternoon to see if our new housemate, Ophelia, is beyond help. Meanwhile, my mom Cathy got really worried last night. Ophelia dived under the bed and refused to come out all night. Usually she sleeps right next to Cathy’s pillow.
So early this morning Mom got up and poked the box springs cover where Ophelia (literally) hangs out. She installed Ophelia in the laundry room with food, water and a litter box. She cleverly set up a barrier so Ophelia can’t get behind the washing machine and refuse to come out, the way Creampuff does.
I peeked in while Mom was scooping the litter box. Ophelia seemed to be happy. Maybe she’s a seeker of solitude. Maybe she’s part mushroom and she likes small, dark spaces. Hmm…from a certain angle, she does kind of resemble a mushroom.
Then Mom turned to me with that gleam in her eye. “You know, Gracie, if these behaviorists seem to know what they’re doing, I can hire them to work on your jumping and pulling issues.”
Uh oh. Training. Tugging my leash. Squirt guns. Anyway, what’s wrong with a few jumps now and then? I only jump on people we know or people who seem, well, suspicious. Mom should be thanking me.