Moscow Cat Circus
I’m going to bear this film in mind, the next time I think of cats as ‘impossible to train’.
At the moment, I can’t even handle one six month old French Bulldog puppy. Pickle is driving me insane, mainly because she’s smart. A smart Frenchie can be a dangerous thing, because she won’t let me get away with suff like spending four hours watching videos on Funny or Die, when she feels we should be doing something more rewarding like going for a walk or doing some table training. She expresses her disapproval by knocking over the water dish, and stomping through it with her fat little feet. She then sits in the water and glares at me.
I knew keeping one of Delilah’s daughters was a bad idea. That makes four generations of smart, impatient Bullmarket girls all in one household. I’m doomed. Maybe I should just get more cats.
A Tessa Update:
As some of you know, Tessa had a turn for the worse over the weekend. As of now, however, she’s still here, hanging in.
We’ve set up a small space for her with carpeting covered with wee wee pads, with a nice cozy bed and her water dish. It’s right in front of the fireplace, too. She seems to be doing fine, now that she’s not trying to negotiate the hard wood while also fending off Pickle, who thinks Tessa’s face is a secret goldmine of uneaten food particles.
She’s eating again, and last night she picked a fight with Sailor (that’s a really good sign, around our place).
So long as she is comfortable, and not in any pain, I’m going to keep the smelly old girl around for a while longer 🙂 I know full well that she is, indeed, slowing down, but there’s still some fight in her yet (just ask Sailor).