April 11th 2012 6:16 pm
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After 9 years of living in a one bedroom apartment with Princess-Queen cats Dinah and Calpurnia (and fellow canine Bentley who left us for the Bridge last year), we have moved up in the world. We now live in a great little Cape Cod house. Mom married this cool dude named Jim. He's pretty alright, though he doesn't seem to understand the importance of my job as King of the palace. I take my house guarding duties very seriously. I sit boldly atop the couch which allows me to survey the land at ease. And I sound my Dog Alarm at any infraction about the property. This includes, but is not limited to:
-People walking in front of the house
-People walking across the street in front of the house
-People walking their dogs in front of or across the street from the house.
-People breathing near the house
-Disembodied sounds near the house
-Possible shadows approaching the house
-Birds rustling in the bushes in front of the house.
The double alarm (read: louder, more frantic and higher-pitched) is sounded for:
-The doorbell ringing
-People I don't know entering the house.
Neither mom nor Jim-dad seem to understand my bowl-dumping ritual at meal time. Keeping one's bowl in one place while I eat is simply a peasantly thing to do. Any King knows that he is in charge of where he eats. By placing my bowl in a different place from where it was put down, I am exerting my royal privilege of meal-taking freedom. By spilling some of the kibble upon the floor, I am claiming my future territory.
I suppose it is grace I will have to extend to my human family since they do serve my needs and are decent subjects. Fortunately, Dinah and Calpurnia comprehend the ways of Royal Highness. Our battles are fierce but of equal standing. Canine King Verses Feline Queens. Honor and Respect never forgotten between us even when fur flies and claws are bared.
Long Live the Animal Kingdom.
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