The Cliffs of Insanity

sapphirescarlet said: I like it when you talk about your critters. I haven't heard much about them lately.

The Dogs:

1. Winchester Napoleon AKA Chester, the Yorkshire Terrier. I shaved his arse on the eleventh of this month. Literally. After I was finished with him, he was a third of his size when I started out. He's only now getting used to the new crew-cut, but I'm sure he's grateful to not have poop hanging off his butt because of all the hair.


2. Riley MacDog. He's still demented. He's gotten to where he'll slink under the bed at bedtime and try to wait me out. He wants to go to bed, but he doesn't want to be bothered with being picked up. We have to coerce him out and grab him before he slinks back to his cave. Weirdo.


3. Sheba... well, she's suffering from Cushing's Syndrome which is more distressing to Aunt Tudi than it is to her. Dr. Patch explained that really the only side effects are excessive hunger and thirst. The syndrome itself gives the sufferer a sense of well-being. Treatment can be both traumatic for the dog and expensive for the human companions. Since Sheba is going on 11 years old, there's no point in taking that road. We just make sure she has all the water she wants and the boys aren't run off from their food after she's gobbled hers down. Doc has given her about 12 years to live, which means she will have lived a long full dog life.


4. Tobelerone...Toby... Oh gawd! He's been with us for a year now. I asked Aunt Tudi just today how many times she thought I'd said the name Toby. She quipped back that I should be counting how many times I've said "Toby NO!" It's a wonder he doesn't answer to that. He already answers to Ugly Dog and Tobelerone, so why not? The dog is my freckle, constantly attached to my side. We've grown exceedingly closer this past year, even though I threaten his life on a daily basis.
   

The Cats:

1. Steve ("he's shy and not big on small talk) is 99.9% an outdoor cat because of his poor behaviour. When he comes inside, he stalks and attacks everyone, but mainly Smidgen. He has no qualms about tearing into Aunt Tudi though. I'm the only one who can handle him. I think his challenged eyesight has to do with this. He's adopted the I'll get it before it gets me attitude and that has landed him outside where he's become Super Squirreler! The backyard is full of squirrel bones where Steve has left his souvenirs. I guess you could say he's a bit of a serial killer.


2. Aloyisius is staying out more than he has been. Spring sprung and Al sprung out of the house singing like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music. He still comes in at night and sleeps with Aunt Tudi, sometimes nose-to-nose. He's a sweet old cat, bless him.


3. Smidgen, the Queen~ She doesn't live up to her name. Having her sleep on my chest is like spending the night with an incubus without the sex and blood. It's a wonder she hasn't broken a rib or two lying there. Ever since her attack by some unknown animal (I'm thinking it might have been a coyote since I saw one dead on the road a week or so back), Smidgen suffers from PTSD. She can be in a dead sleep, then launch from wherever she is in pure fright. If she's on me or Aunt Tudi, we get the brunt of her launching claws. Once she wakes up sufficiently, she's okay, but I know she's reliving her attack in the dreamworld. It's no fun for her or any of us really. Smidgen is 99% a house cat, going out only occasionally to check out her territory before hauling ass back to the house for a wee nap.