I’ve been suffering from a monster-ass cold (or COVID, who the hell knows?), so I’ve been spending a lot of this past week lying flat on my back feeling like shit. And in my cold-induced stupor, it appears I taught Daisy to fetch.
My late cat Willow learned to fetch all on her own. It just sort of happened. And I wasn’t exactly trying to teach Daisy to fetch either. In fact, it was completely accidental.
I mentioned a while ago that Daisy took an instant liking to my late dog Mary’s favorite nighttime toy Moon. Though, “instant liking” may not be entirely accurate. I don’t know if it’s the dog smell on Moon or what, but Daisy gets so riled up over the thing, she turns into a meth-addled panther.
She tears at Moon like it’s trying to kill her.
In less than two months, Daisy has done more damage to Moon than the pitbull did in ten years.
How it started and how it’s going:
About a month ago, Moon went missing. For weeks, I hunted high and low for Moon, but no joy.
But given how vicious Daisy is with Moon, I started to suspect think the damn toy hid itself.
When I’d all but given up finding him, Daisy spotted him lying in an empty 5 gallon drum on the basement floor. I have no idea how it got in there.
And with Moon’s return came the return of the meth-addled panther.
I call Daisy my barnacle because she follows me everywhere. And since this cold has made me so miserable and I’ve been spending a lot of time sacked out on the couch, Daisy, not content with simply playing with Moon in the same room, insisted on bringing it up onto the couch to play with it on my lap.
Trust me, you do not want a full-on meth-addle panther battling Moon on your lap. There is no way to avoid getting caught in the line of fire. Now, in addition to having this lousy cold (or COVID, who knows?), I am also covered head to toe in scratches.
By Tuesday, I’d had enough. So out of a sense of self-preservation, every time Daisy jumped up on my lap with Moon in her mouth, I’d grab the damn thing and throw it as hard as I could into the other room.
And every time I did, that little stinker cat would launch off my lap like a rocket, run into the other room, grab Moon and bring it right back onto my lap.
I’d throw it again. And she’d retrieve it. And again, and again, and again.
Now, I wasn’t trying to teach Daisy to fetch. I was trying to avoid being torn to ribbons. But, in the end, Daisy learned to fetch.
Fetch is now officially Daisy’s favorite game.
I confess last night I got so tired of playing, I hid Moon for a couple hours just to get a break from it.
But even an indefatigable meth-addled panther wears herself out eventually.
Monday marks Daisy’s two-month anniversary here at Casa Dianny. We’ve become inseparable. And I admit, I’m just crazy about her.
Though, today, (and she doesn’t know this yet) she’s getting her claws trimmed.
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