I’m feeling a little under-appreciated lately. It’s all “Izzie don’t do this, Izzie don’t do that.” Mom and The Viking are getting perilously close to infringing upon my personal liberties. They don’t harass Teddy like this. I completed a thorough experiment that proves I get yelled at 38% more than Teddy.
Yesterday, The Viking had to blow the snow off the sidewalks with his Leaf Blower. It was cold and a little windy and very unwelcomey outside. Teddy and I were sitting in the office window, watching the snowflakes dance. And then, The Viking started up the Leaf Blower. Teddy was there one moment and gone the next, leaving only a smelly fart behind.
Of course, Mom hurried to calm him down. She gave him a love and then brought him back into the office so Teddy could see it wasn’t some sort of Demon from the depths of Hell out there but The Viking in snow gear. She failed; getting two accidental scratches on her boobs for her efforts.
Mom told me to help him calm down, so I put him in a headlock and body-slammed him like the sissy he is.
“Izzie! For fuck’s sake! Can’t you just be nice?!”
No. He’s a big Scaredy Cat and an embarrassment to the family. We’re Vikings for Pete’s sake!
Teddy found a folded blanket on the sofa as his favorite nap destination. I think that spot should be in my collection of spots and not Teddy’s. I tried slapping him off it and then giving him my most lethal gaze, but he wouldn’t budge. Why does he have to be so damned stubborn? It’s like he’s spending too much time with The Viking! However, after several failures, I approached him innocently with my sweetest face and lay down behind him and licked his head. I soothed him into a nice nap. Then I started wiggling and squirming and pushing until he fell off the sofa and I spread out.
“Izzie! For fuck’s sake! Can’t you just let him have one spot for himself?!”
No. Survival of the fittest and I’m am so much more fit than he is.
The Viking bought a battery operated, spin-y toy and let Teddy play with it first. He batted at the feather toy that flitted around the base while The Viking made me wait for my turn. Teddy was so cute, following the feather back and forth and back and forth and then I decided “Fuck that!” and jumped over The Viking’s arm, pushed Teddy out of the way, grabbed the feather and pinned it to the carpet.
“Izzie! For fuck’s sake! Can’t you just let him play with something before you kill it?”
No. I think I’ve established that I am smarter than Teddy even on a bad day and if I allow Teddy to set the bar on the intelligence of a toy then I’ll never get anything better. How about a Play Station?! And, by the way, I haven’t slapped a customer in months! That’s worth a “Good girl, Izzie” at a bare minimum.
So, I planned a mini family meeting in the bathroom while Mom was peeing. It’s really the only time I can get her undivided attention. I laid out my evidence on the 38% scolding differential between me and Teddy and how it can affect me further on in life. I could be damaged mentally……
Teddy!! Slap! slap! slap! I’m doing the talking! Why are you even here? Don’t you have a piece of floor to sleep on?!
…………………okay, where was I? Oh, yes. I could be mentally damaged and become cranky and miserable and no one wants that, now do they?
All my effort in the presentation were for naught though. Mom gave me that flat stare that never bodes well. That night, she picked me off Teddy’s blanket by the scruff of my neck and put me in my 51st favorite sleeping place. Then she put Teddy on the blanket!! And he promptly went to sleep!
I’m plotting my revenge now. And it will be epic.
Caring is sharing.
Don’t mess with Izzie. I always wonder why people put up with nasty pets. Yeah, yeah, I know, we love ’em all. Even the crazies…
Yup, even the crazies. :o) To be fair, she was too young for adoption but her Mama went into heat and quit tending the kittens. The owner said she was 7 weeks but we think she was more like 5 weeks. She had no idea how to be a cat.
Teddy has been a godsend. He has slowly been filing down the rough spots and she’s getting better and better all the time. That doesn’t mean she’s suddenly sweet – it just means she’s not trying to lacerate us in our sleep. :o)
“Teddy was there one moment and gone the next, leaving only a smelly fart behind.”
Of course it was from his behind. How else could it be left in his wake? Okay, okay, I do sometimes have the sense of humor of a 10-year old boy, but Benjamin Franklin did write ‘Fart Proudly,’ and he is well renowned as one of the founding fathers. Perhaps the most fart-obsessed one, but it is what it is!
I heard that he was a champion Burper as well. That guy definitely liked his bodily functions. :o)