Cato would qualify for Mensa
Mum:
Tara found a bone under the couch this evening.
I am not proud of this, but there we are. I run the kind of house where bones are, occasionally, found under couches. At least it made Tara happy.
One bone. Two dogs. Finders keepers. So obviously Cato wasn't quite so cheerful.
It took a while, but eventually he managed to organise things to his satisfaction: First he sat and watched Tara chewing. Then he sat and had a think. Then he went over to the doorway and sat down facing me. The pressure of his gaze was quite impressive.
When I failed to produce Bone no 2, he had another little think and moved on to Plan B: This time he did his Wanna Play barklet, with the mini Play Bow and slight hop. So he either wanted food (already eaten), a brush (already brushed) or A Game (oh yeah!). So I grabbed a python and started waggling it... er... wrestling for my life.
Hero that he is, he rushed in to save me from the monster and we had a good ol' tug o war, complete with growling, snarling, leaps and pirouettes. It was an epic battle.
So epic that Tara found it irrisistable, and came to join in.
Which was, of course, exactly what Cato had intended all along. For all the noise and bluster, Tara had moved less than 18 inches away from that bone before Cato dropped the Python, abandoned me, and swooped in like a stealth commando to scoop the bone to the safety of the hearth. Where he is still chewing it with intensity.
Meanwhile, Tara and I played Python for at least 10 minutes before there was enough of a lull for her to notice him chewing.
She is now lying, bereft and boneless with her back to Our Hero.
11 Comments
Recommended Comments