So I recently mentioned the new addition to our family, Rodney the puppy. Rodney joins a family of three, myself, hubby and the cat. Before I get into details of how Rodney has adapted to his new surroundings I think you deserve some history on our cat. Our furry friend, recently being described as football shaped by the vet (overweight doesn't quite cover it), is named Buffy. A closet Buffy the Vampire fan at the time of purchase I thought the name was cute, little did I know it would be literal.
Buffy is an antisocial, occasionally demonic and frequently dismissive cat. In all fairness I blame this on her early upbringing. We view Buffy as a rescue cat. The home from which we purchased her was, how can I say this politely, a stinking cesspit not dissimilarr to the Hellmouth from the Buffy series. We knocked on the door to be greeted by a bedraggled, barely dressed, grime covered child, who swiftly returned to his seat on the threadbare staircase whilst pointing in the direction of the living room. Greeted by the site of a tiny, fluffy bundle of black and white, it was clear from first sight that we would have to take this poor, neglected creature home with us. We promptly handed over the required £20 and when passed the £5 change, offered to let them keep it, although I wonder now if they would have thrown the child into the deal for the extra cash. And so Buffy was rescued.
A timid, fearful creature, Buffy's first few weeks at home started well, if a little on the shy side. She was needy for affection and the excuse to cuddle up on the sofa to settle the kitten was enough to allow me endless opportunities to watch daytime soaps (the joys of Summer holidays). The hubby was also in his element, already being singled out as the preferred lap of choice. Guests to our home were not quite as honoured, in fact they rarely saw her as she hid herself under the sofa in a state of a panic. As weeks passed it became clear that this fearfulness was not going to dissipate as she got older, to this day she remains extremely antisocial and will rarely be seen in the same room, or even floor of the house as any guests (sadly for her she can no longer fit under the sofa...and at her expanding rate soon will struggle to fit under the dining table I shouldn't wonder!)
When talk of a dog began we both swore that Buffy's intuition had her deliberating a plan of action. It began with true vampire slaying aggression, directed at yours truely. Whilst innocently walking to the bathroom one morning I was subject to a vicious flying attack, as the cat clamped onto my leg, sinking in both claws and teeth whilst I searched in vain for some holy water to anaesthetize her with. Instead I ran into the bedroom, slammed the door behind me and dived under the covers in a state of fear. What I had done to deserve such a treatment? I maintain that it was a warning, intended to dissuade me from further dog related discussions. However rising above this cat enforced bullying I became more determined and started searching with new vigour, it was time for Buffy to change tactics...
So Buffy switched to plan B, and I don't mean experimenting with a pleasing mix of rap meets soul music. Actually she had far more elaborate plans, Buffy was playing the role of 'good cop'. After years of dismissive derision Buffy was suddenly a playful, cute, look at me while I roll on the floor, kinda cat. She must have had lessons on tuneful purring (perhaps from Plan B) and was now a bona_fide cute and cuddly, whilst still slightly football shaped. Unfortunately for her this did little to dissuade us, in fact it only added to hubby's fantasy of the cat and future dog, laying next to each other by the fireplace, you've seen the adverts with the friendly cat, mouse and dog right? Well we were all set to make this a reality.
When Rodney joined us initially we followed all the guides and made sure Buffy had access to plenty of rooms that the dog could not follow. She made good use of this and quickly adapted stealth mode, manoeuvring from the bedroom to her food bowl undetected. Gradually we started introductions resulting in an unveiling of Buffy's true nature...the slayer.
Poor Rodney is an unexpected victim of Buffy's rages, the friendly pup keeps going back for more even though each attempt at civility results a blood curdling hiss and a manic swipe of claws. I swear I saw Buffy whittling a piece of wood into a pointy steak the other day. Anyway Rodney's salvation has arrived, after a trip to the vets for an infection Buffy is now wearing a plastic cone to stop her from irritating it more, the resultant effect being a uncannyesemblance to Hannibal Lecter...now is that just me or does that purr sound like the cat saying "I'll eat the dog with some fava beans and a nice chianti".
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment