The Ocelots have changed and the Hound of the House has Spots, lots of spots. Out numbered, I live with quadrupeds.
In a house of females and felines, my Hound's male doggy exuberance brings a directness to proceedings. He has played a big part in their upbringing. It is tradition that he brings the new cats into the house for the first time. Whether they are picked up starving on the street like my Lovely Blueboy was on a middle of the night walk in winter, or, like the latest residents collected from their born homes to their lifelong home by car, Primo brings them into the house. This way everyone knows who everyone is and that they belong here.
The cats have in part been raised by a dog, who in turn as a young puppy was raised by a kind but sure of herself cat who in turn had been raised by a labrador. And so it goes back and it will go forward. In our family, cats and dogs don't just co-exist they get on - mostly, like any family. Nothing about their essential cat or dog self is betrayed in this act of cohabitation, nor natural behaviours left behind. In their shared space attitudes have evolved and a certain rhythm is set, which in their individual ways they all contribute to.
They all have a policeman, or should I say Police woman? That's my role.
He might be willing to share his bed with them or leave them to luxuriate in it curves and softness but if they make a move on the food in his bowl he tells them sharply. But not too sharply because "She" ( that's me) is about and might have "views" about reasonable force.
The cats might tolerate maybe even expect that at some point whilst eating he may burst in and put his long snout into their tiny bowls and scoff. Their tactic is more wily. He got their remains yes but using dark dilated eyes they turn their faces upward to their arbiter (as the Police woman's role is perceived by the cats), suck in their cheeks as if super models and plead for more. The Arbiter knowing her role in this game, complies and more food arrives
Satisfied, the Hound finds his place for some post prandial grooming and the cats settle in for their second course. What I do after this is irrelevant.
I know my place.
Friday, 21 October 2016
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