Working out with two dumbbells, one black, about 20 pounds; one red, about 10 pounds. Schuster loves to play and is as mischievous as they come. Simon is a bit of a load, yet an awfully precious one, and he and Schuster get along well. Schuster insists on chewing on Simon's ears, and Simon, for some undoubtedly kinky reason, lets him. Last night, Sunday, Mary was holding Schuster, taking him off to be "crated" for the overnight, as the meteorologists continue to say. She brought him to me, so I thought I'd teach him a bit of a lesson, since he'd been chewing on Simon all night. I started chewing on one of his ears. Unfortunately, he learned nothing, but I ended up with a mouthful of red hair. Bleah.
In other news, Schuey hid one of Mary's slippers for most of the afternoon. I love it. All afternoon she walked around wearing mismatched slippers until I found the lost one in our bedroom.
I keep all my shoes and slippers in my bathroom off the master bedroom, well, 3 pairs of shoes and 1 pair of slippers. Saturday night, as we were getting ready for Mass, I brought the shoes I was going to wear into the bedroom. As I went back into the bathroom to brush my teeth, Schuster, the little monster, grabbed one of my shoes with sock and raced into the living room with them. He is such a sneaky little guy. Then he just stands there looking at me with those wonderful hairy ears perked up. I would forgive him almost anything.
He also doesn't take criticism well, but then who does? His response is to growl softly at you under his breath, and then bark outright if you persist in complaining about his mischief.
The other day I came into the living room and found him and Dexter on the floor side by side, touching, but Schuster had put his head over Dexter's neck. Cute awfully cute. Then the other afternoon, Dexter the beagle heard the ambulance sirens from over by the hospital. He always gives them the beagle bellow when he hears them outside. This time Schuey, also outside, heard them, ran to Dexter's side and tried to bellow like a beagle too. He tries to imitate his Tio Dexter.
Last night Simon actually came to bed with me (3:30 a.m.) and stayed there, under the covers the rest of the night. This morning, about 9:30 a.m., Schuey started whining from his crate next to our bed. Mary got up and took him out of the crate and put him on the bed. Schuey went wild. He tried to dig Simon out; he ran to me and started licking my face (pay back for the ear chewing?); Simon crawled up to my side and I tucked him under my arm to protect him from Schuey's sharp claws; Schuey ran to the end of the bed and jumped down before we could stop him. Everyone being awake by that time, everyone got up.
When I went downstairs to get the paper and let Pinkie out of the laundry room (where she spends the overnight), I discovered that when Mary had cleaned Pinkie's litter box yesterday, she put it back in the laundry room with the litter-box door against the wall. OMG! Pinkie had pooped on the mat in front of the box before I got there and hurried into the box the minute I turned it around, undoubtedly to get rid of a day's worth of pee. Poor cat. Mary came down to clean up the mess (I can't bend over for the first hour in the morning; that is my story and I am sticking to it); her comment: "I was in a hurry yesterday morning." OMG! There is hurry and there is hurry! I for once refrained from pointing out the obvious here. Okay. How on earth do you manage to set the damn box down without checking to see that the door is front and center? Later that day I read Hagar the Horrible and was glad I had held my tongue, so to speak. I was also led to think about the game of chess and its symbolic values. The game is over when you checkmate the King; but the Queen has all the power and can move any way she wishes. Any way she wishes.