Cats and chickens

Naturally no story of Henrietta’s return would be completely without getting the other side of the story.

Sanne:  So Thumper and Cherie, how do you like the big birds?

Thumper:  Snort.  (Runs under the bed)

Cherie:  What have you done to us now?  (Huge pansy eyes stare at me reproachfully)

Now I am used to telling my critters what’s up.  When I prepare for vacation I pull out my suitcases and let them sniff around and even lie in them so they are part of the process.  When Uncle Erik comes to live with us I prepare them in advance.  True, when Granny arrived they were no more prepared than I was but they forgave me.  Now they have been humanized and not only share their favours with Granny and I but they even deign to accept Uncle John into the house.  They have told me that Aunt Charlotte is crossing the line when she brings Dexter and they reserve judgment on little grand nephews but over all they have been accepting of most of the things that I do in their house.

Oh yes, any owner of cats knows that I am merely lodging with Them.  Now for my defense, I have been telling them for 6 weeks now that the “big birds” were coming.  I’ve carried them over to the Chicken Palace to sniff around and get an idea that “something was up”.  Okay, so we have backed the Palais Poulet directly up against their Hunting Lodge but, really, logistics must prevail.  They don’t accept that logic.  I explained that the chicken pen was there first, well before the Hunting Lodge was ever thought of.  They will have none of it.  The Henriettas are on their turf, so what am I going to do about it?

Well, darlings, nothing.  Cherie looks at me again with those huge hazel eyes and I see disbelief, reproof, consternation.  Are we going to have a divorce over this?