New additions to the Pesky Critters

For the past month, I've been walking the dogs before work, in a sad attempt to get fit.

It has failed. Largely due to the inordinate amount of time we owners spend gabbing while the dogs run around chasing things.

So here are the new members (photos not available)

Michael and Marley (Jack Russell x mutt)
Gail and Jack (another Jack Russell)
Julie and Sandy (big mutt, soppy)
Cathy and Tyler (big Staffie)
Joe and Blake (black laborador)
Two owners I keep forgetting, but the dogs are Casper (golden laborador) and Sally (King Charles Spaniel)
Craig and Simba, Lucy (big brown mutts, rocket propelled)

So the dogs now have a social life and are happy pack creatures. The cats hate it. Especially since the morning that Michael came round to collect us. He's eleven, autistic, we were missing and that's not in his scheme of things so he came to get us. Marley, 6 months old and a bouncy puppy, invited himself in and made himself right at home. Gail and Jack waited outside, as Jack had weighed up the cats and decided that the gatepost was about as far as he could safely go.

It might not be healthy, but it is fun. A mismatched group with a common interest, talking a lot of enjoyable rubbish and having a good time.

Like the MNG in the pub, but with chewy sticks.

All Quiet on the RM front...

and I am suspicious.

Last week I had to spend a couple of days at home, with a migraine. This week I spent a couple of days at home with Mum, who was recovering from a hospital visit (think anaesthetic, tubes and painful).

In between, there was a frenzy of tidying-up and furniture moving. The cats really don't like it when I'm home during working hours, they wonder what I'm up to. And they really hate big upheaval, tidy round by all means but moving furniture? Nooooooo, no, no! So the Mogs retreated to a safe distance and kept their heads down.

So why am I worried?

The last time they were this quiet, we ended up with a feline killing spree which involved several dismembered garden critters, and a goldfish corpse. Reservoir Mogs indeed. I really need to start clearing the box room but this is their last bastion of peace in a cruel Kim-and-Aggie world and I don't want the house turning into an abattoir.

Apparently young Scott over at Everybody Laughed has moved his stuff round and his cats LOVE it. Inadvertently he has created a hi-speed run from kitchen to patio doors, so easy to get some speed up and be halfway down the garden to catch unwary pigeons. Ok, so the last bit is in their dreams, but they are happy with the new arrangement and hey, there are some very stupid pigeons out there.

But my cats know what they like and they don't like change. And Bailey is just worried he'll be moving house again.

I have to go and buy some serious pet bribes now.

Power shift

Since the departure of Greebo, there has been a small but subtle change in the power struggle at home.

The cats are used to having an advantage, the dogs have seen a chance to catch up.

So the dogs are treating me like Queen of All I Survey and the very best leader a dog pack could have, and the cats are making it quite clear that I am One of THEM. They will waive the usual 4-legs, 9-lives rule for once.

I did point out that they are pets, there purely at my whim. They ignored me.

Still, it is nice to be popular, instead of being a human tin opener.