The Dogs are Gone

The dogs are not here.

I don't know where they are. I don't know when they are coming back. And quite frankly, I do not care. The dogs, who you haven't met yet, are two loud, high-strung, smelly, clumsy, stupid masses of yellow fur and ugly paws.

I hate them.

And it's not just because they eat poop. (!)

I hate them because they break up all of my fights with Turtle. I hate them because they spoil my hunts all the time because there is nothing stealth about Miss Border Patrol who races around the perimeter and yells at everyone to run away or about Mr. Digger who insists that barking at a wounded mole is the way to kill it.

These are not smart creatures.

I mean, Turtle isn't playing with a full deck either but at least she's a cat -- inescapably elegant (but, really, not so bright). And, she's easy to bully out of food/cat-nip/the best spot on the kitty tower. So, there's that.

But anyway. The dogs are not, and have not been here. And let me tell you, it's been awesome. You see, when the dogs are gone, that means Rules and Warmth are gone. When Rules and Warmth are gone, The Feeder arrives.

Oh my GOD, I love The Feeder. The Feeder was the first to let me outside. The Feeder brings me moist food that Rules doesn't like. The Feeder provides crazy amounts of Green Heaven for me to roll around. The Feeder never lectures me about the condition of my tail (it's pretty dirty) like Rules does. The Feeder has never tried to wash me (Rules) or prevented me eating a chipmunk head (Rules). Of course, neither The Feeder nor Rules let me sleep on their heads like Warmth does. Warmth is my best friend. Even though he doesn't clean my litter box enough. (And Rules: NEVER).

Rules and Warmth came back last night. The Feeder hasn't come over yet. Which means those dogs are probably coming soon. Or, maybe, they've left forever and I'll never have to lose my spot to that fat little one again. I can't tell you how many times I've been kicked out of The Cave (my cave, thank you) so he can go to bed in there. He also takes my blankets and beds. Rules seems to indicate they all belong to Fattie. She's wrong about that. She's soooo wrong.