Cat v Dog

These days, now that Clover is on her own, she has her bed in our bedroom. She sleeps at the foot of our bed and snores.

You would be amazed at just how loud she can be!

She snorts and chainsaws her way through the night, sending decibel counters in the neighbouring county shooting off the scale.

 

How do you sleep, I hear you ask.
 

Well ... It's training. And having spent the past several years listening to my wife snort and grunt her way through the twilight hours, I'm very used to it!
 

Anyway, at 6 am the noise stops. It's time to get up and to let Clover out for her toilet.

This morning, as we made our way down the stairs, we were met by Blossom, the cat.

She evaded capture last night so wasn't, as per usual, put out to terrorise the neighbourhood.

At the foot of the stairs she did that cat thing ... crouching with her front paws trampling, back legs tensing ... and just as a very cautious Clover hit floor level, she pounced!
 

A left ... a right ...  a hiss!
 

Clover, surprised by the attack, pressed herself wide eyed against the wall. Blossom sat down and, looking incredibly smug, started to clean herself.

After the shock had abated, Clover began to circle around Blossom in an attempt to get to the back door. Blossom immediately stood, positioned herself directly in front of Clover, and with a withering look turned her back and sat down.

Dogs, as you probably know, have a fascination with bottoms.

So it will come as no surprise to you that as soon as Blossom's back was turned, Clover felt the need for a sniff.

She slowly stretched towards Blossom's derriere ... closer and closer ... ready to sniff.

A mere inch or two away from Blossom's bottom, Clover sneezed!

Blossom flew into the air, still seemingly in a sitting position. At the apex of her flight her legs extended, she rotated through 180°, whacked Clover smartly on the nose then, upon landing, raced headlong up the stairs.

Clover isn't the quickest of dogs.

Her reaction came several seconds after Blossom had scampered onto the upstairs landing.

She jumped, her eyes wide, and galloped down the hallway. When she reached the backdoor, she spun on the spot, whined and looked at the handle.

As I opened the door and let her out, she threw me a glance that quite clearly said 'You won't tell anyone, will you?'.

Bloody Kids!

Times are hard!

Money is always a problem, then there's work, house maintenance, etc., etc..

The list is endless.

And then there's the 22 year old step daughter that insists an acting like a petulant 6 year old ALL THE TIME!

You have to wonder where you went wrong ... and if you are the only ones that suffers this way.

It's sad that a divide has opened up between the family generations and it is also so very annoying!

From the small things ... leaving empty milk or margarine cartons in the fridge ... to the bigger things ... staying out for days at a time without telling anyone where she is ... it is causing a massive amount of tension in the family home.

There is no obvious solution when the person you are at odds with just doesn't give a shit!

We just have to say 'hello' to be barked at. Each and every conversation is perceived as a vicious attack on our part ... and the best form of defence in her book is attack! Which she does at the drop off a hat.

If you ask what the problem is, it's us ... always banging on about something or other. But, even in the same house, we never see her to say anything anyway.

She won't get out of bed before 3pm, she bakes and cooks in the middle of the night (sometimes forgetting half way through what's she doing) and cannot do ANYTHING quietly, even when she know we both have to up for work at 6am!

Now, the solution might seem obvious to others, but not to us.

I've tried buying a gun, but they wouldn't let me have one!

And short of burying her head first in a deep hole in the garden, I don't know what else we can try ... Except chucking her out!

OK!

That was a mild mannered rant. Rest assured the real nasty rant isn't far off!

{Thinks: perhaps we could move out while she's at work?}

Lest We Forget