Doggone Morning

“Argh. Why isn’t she up yet?”

“I don’t KNOW but I wish she’d HURRY!”

“Bear, Mindy, whine and whimper.”

“Why don’t YOU whine and whimper, Dusty?”

“I’m a guy. I can’t whine and whimper.”

“I’ve heard you whine and whimper plenty of times.”

“Shut up Mindy. Please?”

“You want me to tear up this little rug Mindy uses to get across the wood floor?”

“No, Bear, it doesn’t do any good. Our human can’t hear you, and she’s just pissed off when she sees you did that.”

“Good point. I hate it when she’s pissed off at me. I love her so much. She’s my human. I wish she’d get up and let us out, feed us and give us cookies, then I could look at her adoringly.”

“Good grief, Bear. But I agree. If she’d get up, let us out, make her coffee then I would get some COFFEE and I could look at her adoringly.”



“You guys are silly.”

“You’re the worst, Mindy. You sit beside her on the sofa all the time.”

“Who sits beside WHOM?”

“Oh, Mindy. You just like to think you’re tough. Remember, you get groomed.


“Bear and I don’t get groomed. That’s so…”

“Wait. Sssh. I heard her move.”

“Give me five minutes, guys.”

“Thank GOD.”

“No, thank Mindy and me. We whined and whimpered.”

13 thoughts on “Doggone Morning

  1. At least Bear doesn’t fling herself at the door.

    Our house:

    Crash. Bang. Whine, whimper … BARK BARK BARK BARK.

    (Okay. I’m coming. Good grief, you can’t POSSIBLY be starving.)

    An hour passes.


    Garry, your turn.” (He gets up, stumbling across my shoes, fling some biscuits at them and returns to bed.)

    I am dreaming that the alarm is going off. Wait. There are no alarms. Its … the phone. And no one is on the other end. COFFEE! Coffee is good.

  2. LMAO Awesome! Delightful. We do this with the cats (all 3) as the third has moved in and staked her claim. Funnily enough, in Hardy, they had a big house, this one is larger, and it’s not big enough to contain 2 cats. My house is a bit over 1000 feet with 2 bedrooms, galley kitchen, living room and bathroom ( SMALL in comparison) there is no spraying, fighting, just the odd tumbling and they await my movement to get fresh water and food. Who knew! And they say cats are solitary, somehow I think not! But your piece surely made me smile as I “hear” the occasional conversation among the three. smirk smirk

    • I don’t think cats are solitary. At one point in my life, I rescued two cats. One of them kept bringing home friends. He was a Russian Blue. The other — a Siamese — was definitely solitary. Soon, there were 10 cats, half of which Fred, the Russian Blue, had brought home with him. The others were all “gifts” from students and one, a Himalayan, was a rescue by our vet who said, “You need this cat!” She was amazing. Catmandu, of course. They LIKED being together.

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