She knows I’m in here, sitting by the open windows. She’s yelling at me, again, STILL!
She is incorrigible and I blame myself. I created the problem with my chronic, over-the-top style of mothering, or rather, “s’mothering.” When she lost her right eye to an infection, I blamed myself for that, as well. In an effort to make up for THAT particular lapse in motherly care, I have allowed her to do pretty much as she pleases. I have caved to her demands for constant attention, food, the best place to watch tv, etc…..
Now that she’s older, and bigger, controlling her “wants” has become a struggle. When she was just a small bit of fluff, our kittens were very tolerant of her silly, clumsy attempts to romp and roll around with them. Now, however, a new batch of kitties aren’t so thrilled with her hopping and skipping about in the middle of their rockin’ play sessions, as she has grown considerably, as all babies do! She will not listen when I shout at her to leave off chasing the older cats, or scaring them out of the planter by the front door so she can steal their kibble. She’s particularly fond of the seafood variety mixed with chicken broth, but in a pinch, she will eat the unseasoned stuff straight from the bag. If the kitty kibble isn’t available, she sniffs out the dogs’ bowls to partake of the elusive, left over crunchies they MIGHT have overlooked,( a highly unlikely prospect.) Recently, she discovered an opened bag of Puperonis, and quite literally snatched them off the kitchen table and sped off at a jaunty trot in an effort to elude two highly indignant Chihuahuas….and me. We cornered her in the hallway and managed to retrieve the treats without any bloodshed. There was, however, a great deal of shouting and barking. ( The pups LOVE those things, and if they had a pistol and opposable thumbs, they would shoot any Puperoni thieves, so Ciega got off lightly………this time!) Left over Raisin Brand cereal? No problem….she loves the stuff, especially when added to her kibble.
My better half swears she will begin barking, soon. Much like a little goat I had about thirty years ago, La Ciega runs with my noisily exuberant pack of five dogs when they’re out in the yard, and happily joins in their silly games. I am certain she has watched them scratching at the front or back door to gain entrance into the house. Unfortunately, she has learned by example to chase cars, trucks, various ranch machinery, (backhoes, windrowers, tractors, balers, etc..) and bicycles. It’s impossible to go on a walk without her. If I can’t locate her, I only need to discover where the dogs are hanging out……generally on the sofa, the bed, or in one of the bathrooms, lying on the cool tiles in an attempt to avoid our Nevada summer heat.
She has come to realize we have two escape routes from the house, and she patrols both front and back doors diligently, keeping close watch on both human and canine inhabitants trying to elude her. If she spots us before we get in a vehicle, we have to play a “decoy” game; the driver stays in the car while the passenger lures her to the front door, then quickly enters and runs through the house, out the back and jumps into the car or truck. ( Thankfully, I am usually the driver, so I don’t have to sprint like Usain Bolt from one side of the house to the other in an outlandish attempt to outsmart a “species confused” lamb!) However, speed will be a factor in the near future, as she has begun to figure out our diabolical plan of leaving her behind and has on occasion met the “runner” at the car door!
Unlike my five dogs who are turning themselves inside/out barking, I realize that the current knocking on the back door is not the Schwann’s delivery man, but the cloven hooves of an unhappy, forty plus pounds ewe lamb. She knows I’m in here with the cat kibble, undoubtedly hoarding it. Lucky for her we don’t eat lamb…………