This afternoon while I was enjoying a nap, Ginger woke me up. “Pssssst . . . . . . hey, Buntah!” I peeked out of my cave. There she was, sitting on the floor close to my house looking up at me. “What?”
“So, you’re staying huh?”
“Yeah. Mom says I’m family now.” Ginger narrowed her eyes at me, “Did she explain the rules.”
“Rules? What rules?”
“The rules of ‘Not Touching Me’.”
“No, she never said anything like that.”
“Ok, here’s the thing - you don’t touch me and I won’t touch you.” Noooo problemo! She was covered in fur, why would I want to touch her anyway? I didn’t say that to her of course. I just told her she wouldn’t have to worry about that. Then she said, “See the couch over there?” Yeah I saw it. “The soft part next to the wall is MY spot. You don’t touch that either.”
“You can’t claim a SPOT.”
“Wanna bet? Everyone knows that’s my spot. The other end of the couch is Pips. You don’t go there unless you’re invited.”
“Alright, anything else?”
“Yeah. You see those bowls on the ground by the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“Those are mine too. Hands off and don't touch my food.” I was starting to get riffed. Not that I'd ever want to touch her bowls or her nasty food, but I didn’t like the way she was talking to me. “No worries there. I wouldn’t touch your nasty Kibbles for anything!” Ginger stood up and stepped closer to the glass - Ooops! Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “Alright, alright, I won’t touch your bowls – or your food. Anything else?”
“Nope. You follow those rules and everything will be fine.” I watched her turn and walk away. She made a big display out of settling into HER spot. Well. I didn’t go back into my cave or back to sleep. I backed up against my log, facing Ginger and burrow-burrowed, burrow – burrowed into my dirt. We eyeballed each other the rest of the day.
“So, you’re staying huh?”
“Yeah. Mom says I’m family now.” Ginger narrowed her eyes at me, “Did she explain the rules.”
“Rules? What rules?”
“The rules of ‘Not Touching Me’.”
“No, she never said anything like that.”
“Ok, here’s the thing - you don’t touch me and I won’t touch you.” Noooo problemo! She was covered in fur, why would I want to touch her anyway? I didn’t say that to her of course. I just told her she wouldn’t have to worry about that. Then she said, “See the couch over there?” Yeah I saw it. “The soft part next to the wall is MY spot. You don’t touch that either.”
“You can’t claim a SPOT.”
“Wanna bet? Everyone knows that’s my spot. The other end of the couch is Pips. You don’t go there unless you’re invited.”
“Alright, anything else?”
“Yeah. You see those bowls on the ground by the kitchen?”
“Yeah.”
“Those are mine too. Hands off and don't touch my food.” I was starting to get riffed. Not that I'd ever want to touch her bowls or her nasty food, but I didn’t like the way she was talking to me. “No worries there. I wouldn’t touch your nasty Kibbles for anything!” Ginger stood up and stepped closer to the glass - Ooops! Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “Alright, alright, I won’t touch your bowls – or your food. Anything else?”
“Nope. You follow those rules and everything will be fine.” I watched her turn and walk away. She made a big display out of settling into HER spot. Well. I didn’t go back into my cave or back to sleep. I backed up against my log, facing Ginger and burrow-burrowed, burrow – burrowed into my dirt. We eyeballed each other the rest of the day.