I’ve been approached for my perspective on the whole Dog Situation or, as I refer to it, The Current Unpleasantness.
This distinguishes it from The Previous Unpleasantness when, innocent and beautiful, I came home to find another cat in my house. A situation which The Fat One and She Who Vacuums have only recently rectified, some 13 years later. Not good enough. Not remotely good enough.
It would seem the best way to convey my feelings on The Current Unpleasantness is to allow a rare glimpse into extracts from my personal journal. These are, you understand, intensely private; as a result some elements have been redacted, although the meaning remains intact.
[Extracts from the journal of Talisker Croft, published with grudging and not desperately kind permission]
August 6th, 2013
Marvelous day. Jumped on TFO and SWV first thing, snagged a cuddle, was fed and watered, then spent the rest of the day asleep under a pile of detritus upstairs. Mugged TFO on his return from work, got fed again, snagged a lap cuddle and slept some more. TFO and SWV still babbling inanely about something or other; have to say, can’t really be bothered to pay attention. I know it’s rude, but they can’t tell. I just look at them and let my mind wander, it’s generally easier that way.
August 7th, 2013
WHAT THE BLUE BLAZES?! Morning routine fine. They were chuntering still, ignored them and went back to sleep. Evening meal decidedly perfunctory, then they dashed out without fulfilling my demands for a knee to sit on. Not good enough, I thought. Must have words when they get back, I thought. They get back at some obscene hour. Nonetheless I come to greet them. They don’t come in. They go to the back garden, and come through the back door. This is not normal. I go to see what may be the cause. IT’S A FLIPPING DOG!! Belt upstairs and under bed. I’ll sort this out in the morning.
August 8th, 2013
Dog still here.
August 9th, 2013
Dog still here.
August 10th, 2013
Dog still here.
August 11th, 2013
Dog. Still. Here. Time to take action. March down to lounge where They seem to be spending all Their time. TFO is on the sofa (big surprise). Go to give him a piece of my mind from the comfort of his knee. Half-way there realise That Bloody Dog is in the room lurking in some kind of jail cell. Looks similar to the thing they put The Other One in before they started methodically removing his legs. This could be a good sign. Perhaps TBD is just their latest vivisection project. I may offer to help. However, for now, it has all limbs and teeth, and I decide that the knee is best forsaken for the safety of high ground.
August 14th, 2013
No point writing anything last few days. DSH, basically. DS chuffing H. Have been confined to upstairs for so long beginning to wonder if there even is a downstairs any more. In an attempt to hold on to both sanity and dignity went to have breakfast in the kitchen this morning. Backfired when TBD appeared from nowhere and tried to eat me. Well, OK, probably not as such. I’m beginning to suspect he just wants to play but no fraternizing, on this I am firm.
Left kitchen sharply, commanding TFO to bring my food upstairs for me. Am not going to bother with downstairs again. Reeks of TBD anyway. May store up a spectacularly ripe defecation for when TFO and SWV go to bed. They are off the Christmas card list and no mistake.
August 15th, 2013
This cannot continue. I had this household running smoothly, and now all is in chaos. I am retiring under the bed, where I will turn my intellect to finding a resolution to this impossible situation. Until then, dear diary, I fear there is nothing to say.