Who let the dogs IN? Allie speaks out!

I would like to know whose idea it was to bring dogs into this house. Or at least new dogs. I used to live such a peaceful life with my mom (the human one) and Charley, and even that old foster dog Isaac who stayed with us for several months until his spirit passed on to the Rainbow Bridge. I ate in the kitchen without being molested, I curled up on mom’s lap without getting nibbled by a big topaz-eyed brindle monster, I slept on mom’s bed, curled in the crook of her knees. Life was good.

And then my mom brought home Caleb, ol’ brindle-butt. Whose idea was that????? That dog has been the bane of my existence. For the first several months after he arrived, I lived up in the attic room – I ate up there, my litter box was moved up there, and I ventured out through the cat door at the bottom of the stairs only when the brindle monster was outside.

A couple of months ago I decided to reclaim my space and my routines. So I ventured downstairs, a little further into the main part of the house each time. Stoopid brindle-butt chased me! He CHASED me! Who does he think he is???? Of course, he never catches me because I’m just too fast, too agile, and too darn clever for him.

In fact, one day he chased me from the kitchen toward the living room. Never even noticed me pull a quick right into the bathroom. There he was, lying on the floor in front of my cat door, staring intensely at the space, waiting for me to emerge. And there I was, sitting haughtily on the laundry hamper in the bathroom, not four feet behind him, watching him and splitting my sides laughing! Eventually I pounced down, swatted him on the behind, and raced up the stairs. Silly old brindle-butt bully dog!

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with brindle (I’m brindle, myself – it’s a beautiful colour), and I don’t mean to be species-ist, but there is something wrong with galumphing lugs that have to chase me every time I try to take a stroll around the inside of the house, and have to nibble at me every time I try to catch a nap on mom’s lap, or in my kitty condo, or in that cosy space tucked between mom’s arms when she sits in front of her computer (which is how I learned to type and write on the blog. Stoopid dogs will never be able to do that!).

And then there are his friends who come to visit about once a week!! OMG, that juvenile whippet is going to give me whiplash with the way he flies around MY house. And someone enter him in the highjumping portion of the Olympics, cuz if he leaps any higher when he’s trying to reach me on top of my kitty condo, he’s going to hit his pointy little head on the ceiling. I swear that dog has springs in his paws and crack in his food!

And that rascally Toby…well, sheesh, who invited him to stick his fuzzy face through MY cat door to MY attic hideaway???? Buzz off, Toby – as the movie says, “cats rule, dogs drool!!!”

This is MY house. One of these days I’m going to post a notice that says “Cats only. No dogs allowed”.

But then it might be kinda lonely. Maybe I’ll rethink this…….I’ll use my feline powers to hypnotize brindle-butt and make him my slave……I rule. Brindle-butt drools. Heheheheheheh!

Sincerely
Allie the Cat.