Chapter Seven...

You know friendly readers, I never thought writing was quite so difficult, it never seemed hard in little bits or short verses, but putting it down continuously like this and trying to blend in the verses to illustrate a point is making my paws sore and my head spin....

Gemma has given up and left me alone for the moment, it does not help to have her looking over my shoulder all of the time to make sure that I am not neglecting her part of the story... Which prompts me to tell you about: Gemma's Mouse....

When we first arrived at our previous address we found that it was part of what was supposed to be a fourplex, the basement area was not finished, so we had it all, both up and down.. The living area was up a long flight of stairs, quite a hike when you have short legs, even if you have four of them.

Mom and Dad had bought a 'squeaky' toy, it was a little beneath my dignity but Gemma, shortly after she arrived, took to playing with this, and I do mean seriously playing, in fact she got Dad into the act.. .Now I must point out that Gemma was very young when she arrived and perhaps no one had explained that only Dogs play 'fetch' She would bring this squeaky toy to Dad, he would throw it down the stairs she would hurtle down, pick it up, bring it back, drop it at Dad's feet and the whole process would be repeated.
As I was older, and more worldly wise, I tried to explain to her that she was a cat and that dogs are the animals that play fetch... her response was, "what is a dog?" She found out in a hurry when Bailey arrived next door, but you already know about that.

Now she is a lot older and maybe a little wiser but she still plays fetch, but with a slightly different wrinkle...
Gemma has a little 'mouse', it was sent by a friend of Mom's and she claimed it right from the start, in fact I was told in no uncertain terms that it was her's, she had it on the kitchen floor and when Dad and I put our heads round the corner to see what was going on she crouched over it and growled at us, you would think she had been out and caught it, the fuss she made

Anyway she started playing with this 'thing' by the front door and batting it under the door to the clothes closet, she tries fishing it out with her paw and when this does not work she sits there looking hurt till either Mom or Dad opens the closet door and fishes it out.... They usually throw it either up the stairs or down, Gemma then tears after it, brings it back and promptly bats it under the door again... .She thought she had them trained for a while but now they are starting to leave the door open a little way....This spoils her fun so of late I notice that she only plays with her 'mouse' when the closet door is shut..

Incidentally while I am on the subject of Gemma I must point out that she can be a messy eater, she has a tendency to fish her food out of the bowl with her paw and eat off the floor, it is probably a habit she picked up at the SPCA as the only way to get her share. I have tried to persuade her that it is not quite nice and there is no competition here, as we have two bowls, when she remembers she can eat quite daintily but, old habits are hard to break...

This was our first Christmas with Mom and Dad, normally they do not go out much in the evenings having things they like to do around the house, at least they do not go out together, either one might be out at some meeting or other and that does not effect us, however... This Christmas they were here, there and everywhere and each time we were shut down in Mom's sewing room.
I might have mentioned that this is a big room with a lot of boxes and carpets and other stuff, quite comfortable and it is where our food is, along with our litter, but it is restricting being shut down there, without the freedom to roam the house.
I thought up the following verse while we were shut down there a week or so back, I think it expresses our feelings on the matter....
Incidentally, while I am still on the subject, obviously to shut us downstairs they have to find us, I fixed Mom good the other night. I could see that they were both getting ready to go out so, as I did not feel like being shut up with Gemma for the evening I made myself scarce.

I could hear them looking for me all over the place but I stayed out of sight, eventually they had to go or be late so there we were with the whole house to ourselves, I will not tell you where I hid in case they happen to read this, I am not sure either, how often I can pull it off without them getting a little put out, after all they do control the treats.. Anyway, back to the verse....

Christmas... Humbug...

I looked at Gemma Tuesday night, we both said, "not again"
it looks like Mom and Dad are going out

The fancy suits and dresses are like warnings to us both
the moment they come out we want to shout

It's Christmas time, it's party time and that to Gem and me
means shut up in the basement we will be

There we will stay till they get home, at some ungodly hour
It's tied in, somehow, with security

I'll tell you this it don't promote a feeling of good will,
to Mom and Dad, when we are shut down there

They normally are stay at homes and we can roam the place
they generally don't go anywhere

So, Christmas, Humbug, we'll be glad when January comes
and things get back to normal around here

Where we can come and go with ease and not be shut downstairs
thank goodness Christmas comes but once a year...

Zak...