![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I love my pets (and husband), I really do. It's just some times... I can't help reminding Loki (the emo cat) that it wouldn't take much effort to turn him into a muffler.
Especially when the little bastard manages to destroy the Christmas tree. AND two ornaments, one of which was a hand-painted ceramic dealybobber that I had spent several hours working on for Captain and I's first Christmas together many years ago.
Yes, the artificial tree was on its last legs - it was six years old and had weathered several seasons fulfilling the duel duty of decorative ornament holder and chew toy for a spastic cat with a toilet brush obsession - but it should have made it one final month before being sent to the landfill of retired plastics and things. Would have survived it ... if it wasn't for the twelve pound cat who INSISTED on attempting to climb it so that he could nibble on the inner branches, as if their metal and plastic bits were some how tastier than the low hanging (and purposely ornament free) branches were.
Normally a good glare and a loud "CAT! I can see you! Get away from the damn tree!" would send Loki slinking off to pout on the couch and stare wistfully at the prickly monstrosity in the corner, but yesterday I was locked away in my office trying to finish the bloody Christmas cards for this year (which I did, so there's a chance someone may get one before Easter or even at all this time) and Captain had popped in to tell me about his day at work ... therefore we missed witnessing the Incident.
Captain does not want me to blame the cat, but artificial trees do not just fall over and die. Their bases do not just suffer random stress fractures, forcing the entire thing to slump over and slam into the ground. Not without some help. Some four-footed furry help, if you catch my meaning.
Anywho - tree is dead and has been shoved in the garbage. The ceramic ornament is currently being frankensteined together in what may be a futile attempt at fixing it. Captain's new ornament - a gorgeous red and gold glass ball - met with tragedy (and the dog) and was utterly destroyed.
Which brings me to an anecdote about the dog. I like to joke that Colonel Brandon is dumber than a box of rocks, but he can be rather cunning when he feels like it. He's learned to bargain, you see.
He'll find something in the house or yard that he's not supposed to have and - assuming it's not something he actually wants to eat like paper or the Styrofoam that meat comes from the store on - he'll carry it into whatever room Captain or I happen to be in. Then he'll make sure we can see him and start to gnaw on it. Very Loudly. Once we realize he's got something he shouldn't, one of us usually panics ("Ohmygod, don't let him eat that! He'll get sick") and jumps up to hurry to the fridge. This is the dog's cue to stop gnawing and to wander over to the kitchen, poised to drop whatever contraband he's managed to find (usually with the help of a cat) if we pull a carrot out of the fridge. The minute he sees one of those tasty-tasty baby carrots he drops the chewed up whatever it is and plants himself at the feet of whichever of us got fridge duty. The other scampers to pick up the slobber covered item (or if there's only one of us, we just toss the carrot in the opposite direction and then run for the slobber).
I know he's doing this on purpose because if he does manage to get something he actually wants, he hides from us and our only clue that he's up to something is the loud chewing coming from behind the sofa or in the bathroom.
I mention this because we only discovered the tree when Colonel Brandon stopped outside my office door and began to loudly chew up Captain's glass ornament. Yes, the dog was chewing glass shards. Which he promptly spit out once he saw Captain hightail it for the place where the carrots live. We have no way of knowing how much - if any - of the ornament he might have swallowed but he doesn't act like his mouth hurts. He did get the hurlies several hours later, but he was running around like a bat out of hell after the fact so he's not feeling sick sick. I'm still keeping an eye on him, though.
Especially when the little bastard manages to destroy the Christmas tree. AND two ornaments, one of which was a hand-painted ceramic dealybobber that I had spent several hours working on for Captain and I's first Christmas together many years ago.
Yes, the artificial tree was on its last legs - it was six years old and had weathered several seasons fulfilling the duel duty of decorative ornament holder and chew toy for a spastic cat with a toilet brush obsession - but it should have made it one final month before being sent to the landfill of retired plastics and things. Would have survived it ... if it wasn't for the twelve pound cat who INSISTED on attempting to climb it so that he could nibble on the inner branches, as if their metal and plastic bits were some how tastier than the low hanging (and purposely ornament free) branches were.
Normally a good glare and a loud "CAT! I can see you! Get away from the damn tree!" would send Loki slinking off to pout on the couch and stare wistfully at the prickly monstrosity in the corner, but yesterday I was locked away in my office trying to finish the bloody Christmas cards for this year (which I did, so there's a chance someone may get one before Easter or even at all this time) and Captain had popped in to tell me about his day at work ... therefore we missed witnessing the Incident.
Captain does not want me to blame the cat, but artificial trees do not just fall over and die. Their bases do not just suffer random stress fractures, forcing the entire thing to slump over and slam into the ground. Not without some help. Some four-footed furry help, if you catch my meaning.
Anywho - tree is dead and has been shoved in the garbage. The ceramic ornament is currently being frankensteined together in what may be a futile attempt at fixing it. Captain's new ornament - a gorgeous red and gold glass ball - met with tragedy (and the dog) and was utterly destroyed.
Which brings me to an anecdote about the dog. I like to joke that Colonel Brandon is dumber than a box of rocks, but he can be rather cunning when he feels like it. He's learned to bargain, you see.
He'll find something in the house or yard that he's not supposed to have and - assuming it's not something he actually wants to eat like paper or the Styrofoam that meat comes from the store on - he'll carry it into whatever room Captain or I happen to be in. Then he'll make sure we can see him and start to gnaw on it. Very Loudly. Once we realize he's got something he shouldn't, one of us usually panics ("Ohmygod, don't let him eat that! He'll get sick") and jumps up to hurry to the fridge. This is the dog's cue to stop gnawing and to wander over to the kitchen, poised to drop whatever contraband he's managed to find (usually with the help of a cat) if we pull a carrot out of the fridge. The minute he sees one of those tasty-tasty baby carrots he drops the chewed up whatever it is and plants himself at the feet of whichever of us got fridge duty. The other scampers to pick up the slobber covered item (or if there's only one of us, we just toss the carrot in the opposite direction and then run for the slobber).
I know he's doing this on purpose because if he does manage to get something he actually wants, he hides from us and our only clue that he's up to something is the loud chewing coming from behind the sofa or in the bathroom.
I mention this because we only discovered the tree when Colonel Brandon stopped outside my office door and began to loudly chew up Captain's glass ornament. Yes, the dog was chewing glass shards. Which he promptly spit out once he saw Captain hightail it for the place where the carrots live. We have no way of knowing how much - if any - of the ornament he might have swallowed but he doesn't act like his mouth hurts. He did get the hurlies several hours later, but he was running around like a bat out of hell after the fact so he's not feeling sick sick. I'm still keeping an eye on him, though.
Tags: