Conundrum!
T-minus one week until Meg arrives. And the camp has already splintered into two distinct war groups: Team Albert and Team Meg. Team Albert feels that the cat should be the dominant cat and so plans are being laid down at the moment so that Albert can be integrated into the presence of the dog in his own terms. Team Meg however is more preoccupied with buying way too many doggie toys and day dreaming about taking the dog into the Bricklayers. My helpful suggestion of making sure that the puppy will not launch herself into the fireplace was not met with much enthusiasm. I’m pretty sure that roast Irish terrier pup is considered an epic FAIL in the pet care handbook.
As far as I am concern, I have taken over as the lead project manager in Team Albert in which the main issue is preparing for the arrival of the pup which includes such important tasks as puppy proofing the house. And in a house with a lot of antique furniture, an open fire place, way too plastic toy bits and bobs belonging to The Kid and a very expensive rug requires a lot of puppy proofing. From experience, my old dogs, Bingo and Ruby, were very partial of a spot of snacking in the afternoons in the form of my Lego bricks and Poly Pocket figurines.
The other issue being how well Albert and Meg will get along. This transition will not be smooth as they are two poles in the opposite direction; Albert relishes a quiet life where the presence of company is enough to keep him happy. Meg in the other hand is a whirlwind of bounding energy where she will want to be the centre of attention and will resort to anything to get it. The other night, the neighbour brought her dog around to the house for a chat. The dog, a pongy but lovely Springer spaniel was running around the living room mesmerised by the new smells before noticing Albert who was sitting on the sofa watching the dog with his distrustful beady eyes. Upon noticing the cat, the dog promptly went up to the cat in a keen greeting in which Albert being Albert gave him the dirtiest look ever and just one hiss. This is what I love most about Albert; he has such a superior complex that upon seeing this dog, he deemed it so lowly that he will not even bother with more fuss upon its greeting. Its like “I’m so much better than you that I will only bestow you with one hiss and no more!”
That’s the frustrating thing about cats. Or dogs. Or even babies. There is no way to tell Albert or to warn him to be mentally prepared when Meg arrives in a week. It will be a huge shock and I’m worried that the grumpy old thing will not take it well. One can just hope that he will be happy for some company, albeit being way too energetic for his taste. Just be grateful I have declared my room a puppy free zone.
As far as I am concern, I have taken over as the lead project manager in Team Albert in which the main issue is preparing for the arrival of the pup which includes such important tasks as puppy proofing the house. And in a house with a lot of antique furniture, an open fire place, way too plastic toy bits and bobs belonging to The Kid and a very expensive rug requires a lot of puppy proofing. From experience, my old dogs, Bingo and Ruby, were very partial of a spot of snacking in the afternoons in the form of my Lego bricks and Poly Pocket figurines.
The other issue being how well Albert and Meg will get along. This transition will not be smooth as they are two poles in the opposite direction; Albert relishes a quiet life where the presence of company is enough to keep him happy. Meg in the other hand is a whirlwind of bounding energy where she will want to be the centre of attention and will resort to anything to get it. The other night, the neighbour brought her dog around to the house for a chat. The dog, a pongy but lovely Springer spaniel was running around the living room mesmerised by the new smells before noticing Albert who was sitting on the sofa watching the dog with his distrustful beady eyes. Upon noticing the cat, the dog promptly went up to the cat in a keen greeting in which Albert being Albert gave him the dirtiest look ever and just one hiss. This is what I love most about Albert; he has such a superior complex that upon seeing this dog, he deemed it so lowly that he will not even bother with more fuss upon its greeting. Its like “I’m so much better than you that I will only bestow you with one hiss and no more!”
That’s the frustrating thing about cats. Or dogs. Or even babies. There is no way to tell Albert or to warn him to be mentally prepared when Meg arrives in a week. It will be a huge shock and I’m worried that the grumpy old thing will not take it well. One can just hope that he will be happy for some company, albeit being way too energetic for his taste. Just be grateful I have declared my room a puppy free zone.