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Pets Who Talk…

I often wonder, if pets could talk, what would they tell us? But I think it is fair to say that most animals are perfectly able to express themselves without the use of human language. At least, when I look at my lot, I know exactly what’s going on in their head, and what would come out of their mouth if they could articulate words.  Which would be really freaky, and disturbing! Especially talking fish…

Speaking of fish, mine have fairly limited conversation skills. It goes something like, “Whatever, dude…” From the time I come to feed them in the morning, to when I switch their lamp off for the night. That’s all they say, “Whatever, dude…” Man! Fish are so boring you can’t even have a chat with them…

My dog, Pepper is great. He has so many stuff to talk about. First, when I come downstairs in the morning, he looks at me and his eyes say, “Nope, I was not sleeping on the sofa! Not me. Must have been the cat…” Even though the sofa is still warm, his hair is all over the cushion and the smell of dog is unavoidable… I am just wondering, does he think I am stupid?  Mmmm, better watch your mouth, Pepper…

Then he gets all excited because he wants to go outside. I can hear him ask, “Oh come on! Come in the garden with me and throw a stick or something! It will be fun!” Not a chance in the world, pal, I have not even had a coffee yet. When he comes back in, he sits quietly next to his bowl and waits until someone notices his miserable look, “I am very hungry. Can somebody feed me please?” I am sure Pepper would be very polite if he could speak. He just looks like that kind of well mannered dog… It is no wonder, he comes from a very posh lineage of blue blood. Had he not been adopted by us, he would probably drink his cup of tea with this pinky raised. I mean, his real last name is Sir Gallahad, not Pepper Nicoll, so yeah…. RESPECT!!!

Once he is finished with his food, he sits next to his bowl again, with the same starving look, just in case someone did not notice that he has already eaten and decides to feed him twice. He rarely gets away with it, but on occasions he does get two servings so that’s all well worth it.

I don’t have a camera but I know that when I take the kids to school, he spends his entire time trying to open the trash can – and succeeds on occasions, leaving a horrible mess on the floor. Sir Gallahad, rolling in the trash? Really? What would your ancestors say? Tsk, tsk, tsk…

He always looks terribly shocked when I tell him off for being a bad dog. The kitchen floor is covered with litter, he is the only one in the house, and still he does not understand how I guessed it was him. He definitely thinks I am totally stupid…

Then for the rest of the day, he either sleeps if he is by himself (probably on that same sofa that he is not allowed to climb on), or he sits on me with a look that says, “Give me a hug!”

When we go to bed, he looks at us from the bottom of the stairs, “Don’t worry, I won’t sleep on the sofa” and goes off to do exactly that within one minute. That’s Pepper. Nice, polite, calm. Total liar, but polite.

The cat is the opposite: in my face, rude, completely hysterical and far too honest for her own good..

At 6am sharp, she jumps on my head, with her back arched, her eyes wide open like she is going to eat me with them, and she claws my hair.  “FEED ME! FEED ME! FEED ME! NOW!!!!! HUNGRY! FEED ME!!” her face screams… And she won’t stop until I get up. When I eventually roll out of bed, she races in zigzags in front of me, like she is trying to trip me off, still chanting, “COME ON! FEED ME! FASTER!!!”. I usually don’t even have the time to put food in her bowl that she is pushing my hand out of the way with her nose so she can eat.

If I ever try to step out of the room to start my day, she jumps in front of me and claws my leg, “STAY HERE! STAY!! I AM NOT FINISHED. STAY!!” Yeah, sure, sweet little cat! I really don’t have anything better to do than watch you eat and swear at me between two mouthfuls, at 6am. Seriously! So I just ignore her and walk off. Which I shouldn’t do because that little deceiving mini-monster on four legs knows everything about revenge. If I don’t stay with her, I usually find a “puddle” next to her litter. Yes. That’s what she does. She pees NEXT to her litter, just to show me who’s the boss here. I swear, she is better at mind games than all of us put together…

When she is done with her evil morning deeds, she hides somewhere and every time somebody comes upstairs, she goes wild, “Who’s there? What d’you want? Get out of here!” If it just happens to be me, she goes on my favorite, most expensive chair and starts ripping the fabric off with her dinosaur claws. She looks straight into my eyes, “You can’t stop me!! See, I do whatever I want HA!” And she is right! There is nothing I can do to stop her. One day, I chased her off the chair so she went to attack my most valuable carpet. Athena knows her expensive furniture from the cheap stuff, you’ve got to give her that…

Not once does she look like she has anything nice to say! I bet you she probably swears as well, and for that reason, it’s probably best she can’t speak. That cat needs go be taught some manners, seriously!

And as I am wrapping up this post, I just noticed that she was sitting right next to me. I am afraid she might have read the content of this blog. Look at her saying, “You will be sorry for this, lady, you just wait and see…”

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