Who Started It?

Who Started It?

It was a conspiracy. Or something.

I had forgotten to buy butter in town, one of the things that should have been on my list, but you know how that goes. I was mad enough to drive to the nearest store out here in the country, to get some butter for our supper.

However, the really bad part was late in the afternoon. I was working in our office bedroom and slowly become aware I was hearing something licking or slobbering out there in the living room.

Some background is needed here. Our cat, who has been with us four years now, hid in the basement for about 2-3 days when she first arrived. She was very shy. I can’t blame her, she had been attacked by some critter, and had to go to an animal emergency shelter a good 30 miles away. Eventually her owners decided they couldn’t afford all the pets/animals they kept if they hoped to build a house, so we said we’d try out Pumpkin. My husband had been looking for a cat—he’s truly a cat man. Our previous one had died maybe a year or so earlier.

Well. This Pumpkin now thinks it is her right to jump on our chairs to get to our “island” and clean up crumbs, and if possible, attack the butter—if we’ve been so dumb as to leave it uncovered. We have taken to spraying her with water to get her to jump back down. We’re just not into having cats ruin our food.

So, I’m blaming the cat for jumping up on the island today while I was in another room (hubby was gone), and then I noticed the unusual noise in the living room.

I was astounded. “Velvet!” I screamed. (She’s our dog.) And of course she pretended to be all sad and embarrassed (ha, ha) and wouldn’t look at me.

Don’t you love to shame a dog so that she or he turns her head aside, very sorrowfully and you make her just stand there while you pout and frown and maybe try to stare her out. (I have not yet been able to take a picture of her being very sorrowful.)

Well, a dog doesn’t have a long memory, except she knows when she’s been bad, and she just hopes you’ll get out of YOUR bad mood soon.

And of course I do.

While puzzling inside. What are we going to do? Keep the butter in the fridge maybe, or hide it in a cupboard? (We hate hard butter from the fridge.)  

I have a feeling the cat in particular will find something else to indulge in. Like ice cream bowls that have been left sitting around, or cereal bowls, etc.

Pumpkin skedaddles to our bedroom (to get out of being in ‘the dog house’) and promptly starts cleaning herself, and then pretends to go into a deep sleep. Which she accomplishes pretty well. I do see her looking slightly exasperated at me when she hears me start up my vacuum.

Oh well.

They’re the only children we have at home anymore.

I throw Velvet a potato chip, and Pumpkin is now sleeping in her favorite place–in hubby’s chair of course, like she didn’t do anything wrong.

Bad kids they are. Sometimes.

Who owns our house, anyway?! Who owns yours?

Pet lovers? Or not so much? Allergic to them?

Do you keep your butter in the fridge after every meal??

Your thoughts and advice here!