My best friend and I both have very spoiled dogs, so when one of us goes away and can’t take our pets, the other looks after them. Below are pictures of my little terrier while I was away in October She had to share the fireplace with Berkley, the black Lab and Athena, an eight month old Great Dane pup. Lucky for her, Sassi has no idea that they both are much much larger than her!
Well hello there. My name is Jeff. I’m sure you’ve all heard the saying, “Behind every successful author is a drop-dead gorgeous, incredibly intelligent cat?” Well, that’s me. I’m the cat behind Red Sage author Anne Kane.
This has not been an easy month, and I have decided to go public with my complaints. You see, the author has another pet. I have no idea why she felt the urge to let a hapless, neurotic, brainless Jack Russell into her home but the sneaky little nitwit was already here when I decided to settle in lend the author my moral support so what’s a cat to do? The problem is, the dog is getting bolder and it seems to think it has rights. I kid you not!
I was peacefully napping in a warm sunbeam on the back of the sofa last Saturday afternoon and the hairy little ninny actually started to snarl at me! As if she thought I would move and let her take the coveted position in the sun. Hah! I yawned and showed her my awesome array of pearly white teeth, but she was too dumb to get the message. I even unsheathed my claws and flexed them a few times to no avail.
Then the author came over. At first I thought good!, she’s going to put that snippy little terrier in its place. Didn’t happen. Alas, she has been corrupted by the furry thing’s fawning manner. She told me to share! Imagine! She put the undersized dog up beside me, talking nonsense to it and when I went to give it a friendly swat across the side of its head, she told me I was a bad kitty. Me! Bad!
I have decided to play along for now while I plot my revenge. I hear there will be a visit by a jolly fat man on Christmas Eve. Rumor has it he will have a sack full of toys for good girls and boys with him when he visits. What do you think my chances are of stuffing the yappy little furbag into that sack before he leaves?
Hey, I was just asking! I’m a good kitty! Really!