I have just spent a week with my daughter in Johannesburg. She has two dogs called Toffee and Vanilla, who both like a quiet life, most of the time, except when the refuse guys arrive to collect the trash. Then they rise to the occasion and howl like wolves at full moon. Toffee shouldn’t really be a howler, but Vanilla has trained her sister well.
Vanilla is quite timid and very affectionate, and if one should lavish any attention on her, Toffee flavoured jealousy will immediately rush up and try to bite her on the nose.
Ravioli the cat is the Queen of the house, and has everything nicely worked out. She is very disdainful of the dogs who have to lie on the floor, and are not allowed on the furniture at all. She on the other hand, has an endless choice of comfortable places where she can while away her day, usually following the sun around the house. Even I am not allowed to put my feet on the coffee table, but not a word is said when she stretches herself out in this hallowed place.
She is very partial to a nice soft cushion, and gets very miffed if a mere person should want to sit on it.
This is her favourite, because it tones well with her colouring.
If we’re going to be eating Al Fresco, she will make sure that she reserves her seat before anyone else gets there. Who would be so heartless as to wake up a snoozing cat?
Just before we left to come home, I tapped on the window to wave a friendly goodbye, but there was no smile for me, just that “How dare you disturb me when I’m doing my ablutions?” look.
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