Tag Archives: Pets

Bruce Goodboy and the Puppers Move House

A few months ago, my husband decided that Bruce needed to move out of my sister-in-law’s backyard, where he’d been living since he found and adopted us earlier in the year. It’s not that she minded. In fact, she liked having a dog around, discouraging “rateros” from any B&E. She hasn’t moved out to La Yacata yet, and the house, nearing compilation, is sitting empty. And Bruce, well, he’s imposing, to say the least. His bark is resounding, his size is eye-widening, and anyone who didn’t know any better would think he’s a threat to their safety and wellbeing.

However, we know that Bruce is a good boy and isn’t interested in attacking anyone. 

Anyway, my husband would do things like take the house keys, which are supposed to be hanging in the kitchen, so we couldn’t get in to feed, water, or walk Bruce. After about a week of these shenanigans, we moved Bruce over to my son’s house. 

That, of course, caused even more lamentations because now, how could my husband possibly cook on his barrica (barrel) stove with a DOG on the premises? Whatever.

His next rant was about Fred and George Pupper in the backyard. They’d been living there for more than five years, but now all of a sudden, it was an issue. If my husband couldn’t cook at my son’s, then he’d move the barrica to the backyard and cook there, but the dogs had to go. It’s not like we don’t have a perfectly servable kitchen AND a grill area on the back porch upstairs or anything. 

Ok. Fine. Fred and George moved over to my son’s house too. No barrica has been installed for cooking in the backyard because the CHICKENS shit all over the place. But whatever.

Walk-time became more complicated. Now, when the boys go out for their promenade, it’s like the three-headed Cerberus emerging from Hell. Bruce, being really still a puppy, is so impatient and pulls at the leash, which disturbs the sanctity of the walk imposed by George and interferes with Fred sniffing new scents along the way. I’m sure though, everyone will get the hang of walking in tandem eventually. 

There have been some mishaps as well. George fell off the roof and onto the first-floor ledge and had to be coaxed back in. Bruce fell out the second-floor window onto the ground but was fine. Fred is mighty cautious and hasn’t fallen yet, but he did drop his skunk toy on the ledge and whined until it was returned to him. 

They also had to go “camping” back in my sister-in-law’s yard while the steps to the roof were being installed. However, all things considered, it’s been a positive change. The Puppers don’t have to deal with all the chickens crowding them out of their house. Bruce isn’t by himself anymore. Everyone got a thorough bathing before the move to the FLEA-FREE abode and are a lot more comfortable because of that. 

There’s been some fighting, mostly over my son’s attention when he’s over there. Everybody wants head pats and to crawl into his lap, although no one fits anymore and hasn’t for some time. In the early evenings, my son takes his guitar over and treats the boys to some music while they dine. 

My son has even introduced his boys to the girl he is sort of dating. Bruce behaved so well that it was like he was a different dog. He sat and allowed his leash to be put on, and on the walk, he didn’t pull at all. He’s such a good boy, you see! 

As it will probably take another year to complete the house, having the boys there isn’t a problem. Once the doors and windows go on though, some housebreaking might be in order. I’ve tried to encourage my son to start on that now, but he hasn’t. Oh well, he’ll have to do the cleanup.

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Missing Manchas

It’s been nearly a week since Manchas was curled up next to me at 11 pm and then didn’t come for breakfast at 5 am. I have no idea where she might be. We’ve searched all her regular hiding places in the house and anyplace she might have gotten stuck. Thinking she may have gotten out somehow, we’ve searched the perimeter of the house and around her mom Garfield’s home down the street and the abandoned house where she was born. 

All of the cats in La Yacata are gone. My father-in-law’s two gray tomcats, the neighbor below’s orange tabby, Pumpkin generation 7 (or 8). The little yappy dog we nicknamed Ferocious was poisoned about two weeks ago, so I expect that’s what happened to the cats. 

Manchas was an incredible comfort to me these last couple of years. She was MY cat. She chose me as her hoo-man and wouldn’t have anything to do with my husband. In fact, she’d often get up and leave the room when he entered. She tolerated my son if he was non-threatening and moved slowly. But me, me, she loved. 

Fuzz has been running around in the mornings, continuing the game of hide and seek he and Manchas would play. Even when she was here, Fuzz hardly ever found her being visually challenged and all. She’d perch on the top of the cabinet and watch him run back and forth searching. 

I haven’t quite gotten up the nerve to put Manchas’ food dish away. As long as we don’t find a body, perhaps there is hope? 

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Cat Burglar

What are YOU looking at?

Fuzz “Klepto” Lightyear has taken up a new hobby, burglary. Anything is fair game, but his favorites are hair scrunchies and eyeglass cleaner cloths. My son is at his wit’s end with Fuzz’s stealing. He has begun a “No Open Door” policy when it comes to the furry beast, but somehow that hasn’t stopped the thievery. 

Manchas has also had enough of Fuzz. In order to maintain his substantial girth, he steals whatever is left of Manchas’ food after he has licked his own bowl clean. Manchas gets royalty incensed at this and punches him. Fuzz remains unfazed by her ol’ one-two. 

Cocoa is also fed up with Fuzz. Although Fuzz has at least 50 places where he can comfortably slumber, he’s decided that the best place is to nap on Cocoa’s blanket. No amount of harassment from Cocoa will move Fuzz once he’s settled down for a snooze. 

I sure hope this behavior is only a phase.

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