Left Sidebartransparent

My sister is off on a cruise with her family this week, so I'm babysitting her dog, Kiki, on my end of the house. (We share a  "duplex" of sorts--we have completely separate living spaces but we're connected by a door in between her kitchen and mine.)


Kiki, bless her heart, doesn't weigh two and a half pounds (soaking wet). She's a teacup peke a poo/shih tzu cross, all black. She's about ten years old.


My cat Hunter, on the other hand, is a large, tall boy, lithe and handsome. He weighs 12 to 14 pounds probably. So he is essentially Kiki-size x 6. He towers over her--which is probably any dog's worst nightmare, to have a cat the size of King Kong or Godzilla (in comparison) hanging out just inches away (when he deigns to come near her).


I have Kiki on my bed with me at night. She sleeps in her soft little dog bed next to me so I don't roll over on her in my sleep.


Hunter doesn't appreciate that I'm cohabiting with what, to him, is probably a weird-looking rat, but he's a gentleman; he would never hurt Kiki (although he's hell on rats).


But he looks at her, and then at me, as if asking, "Would you like me to bury that for you? It's very much in the way, you know."


Several times a night Hunter comes to my bedside announcing himself with his usual plaintive "ma-ma, ma-ma..." and I reach down and say, "Hello, beautiful boy. Come on up!"


If he comes up, he doesn't stay more than a few scant seconds ... because "rat". He regards Kiki as a thoughtless interloper, and me as an unrepentant two-timer.


The look on his face says it all. "I'm going to sleep on the couch. You can sleep with that whatever-it-is, you hussy."




There's nothing I can say to defend myself at this point.  Only when Kiki returns to her side of the house will Hunter consider me decent again.


Right now I'm sporting a huge scarlet letter, as far as he's concerned.

Leave a Comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.