Thursday, May 22, 2008

puppy patrol & interspecies peace negotiations

OK, so I knew it was going to be a lot of work and a lot of attention. . . . But I had NO IDEA of what this boy-pup would eat if I wasn't watching him all the time!

Leaves, sticks, stones, mulch, bugs - and his favorite - concrete. His favorite chew toy is our concrete bench, currently serving as a coffee table on the front porch. Oh. He also favors brick.

Is this normal?

He goes to the vet today for his 12-week shots; I'll ask the vet.

My days - for the last 2 days - have entailed walking around with him, saying "tsst!" and "leave it!" and offering him the accepted chew toy. He eventually 'gets it', but his memory is short. Half hour later? Same thing. "Tsst! Leave it!"

Inside, the cat hid for almost two days, coming out only when Luther was in his crate. Last night, she sprung her new strategy. She waited until Luther was outside for his 'business' walk and then set up an ambush at the door. I could just imagine her thoughts: "If we can just keep him OUTSIDE, this will be a whole lot easier. . . ."

How would Cesar handle that one, I wonder?

After initially avoiding the confrontation (cat stays in kitchen; dog goes onto porch), we considered leaving them to 'fight it out' - in effect - on their own, namely to settle it between themselves. On further thought, though, it seemed to me that that is not what the pack leader would do - not this pack leader, anyway! So back on went the leash, and we marched out the porch door and back in through the kitchen door, where I sent the cat scurrying.

"Is that what Cesar would say to do?" asked the king, "Kick the cat?"

"I didn't kick the cat!"

"No. I know you didn't. Not really. I meant shoo her off. . . . Is that what we're supposed to do?"

I had to confess I really wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, but I felt it was important that Luther see that I was 'in charge' (even if I was wrong) and that a little cat wasn't holding me at bay, as I hunkered down out on the porch, leaving the cat to rule the entry door. . . .

The cat does not appear to have held a grudge. Luther does not appear to think I'm his hired gun, though, either. He gives the cat a healthy respect, but she needs to give him a little room, as well.

Harmonious life appears to be on the upswing again, though. Last night, the cat slept in her own bed again in our room, with Luther on the other side of our bed, in his bed.

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