I decided I would try a different tack with mistress. Instead of despairing at her incompetence and going off to sulk, I thought I would try and understand her.
That’s a bit deep isn’t it everydog? But I think it’s working.
For example, yesterday morning I went in a few times and got no response from her. I couldn’t work out if she was playing the game or whether she was really asleep.
Then a bit later I ran in and stood by her side of the bed. She opened her little green eyes sleepily and said: “Hello Pippa darling. Oh, it’s daylight, it must be time to get up and take you out.” And she did – there and then. I was lost for barks.
So I thought about it for a bit and then realised she always goes to bed a bit later than master. We can’t watch our Spanish soap together any more because the TV bit the dust and master threw it out, so she looks at the internet for a little while. And then master tells her to go and curl up in bed with him.
Now because master is not here, she doesn’t have anyone to curl up with. I think I might ask her if she wants to curl up with me on my sofa. There is always plenty of room because at night I always curl up very small. This is important because then you are safe and protected and people can’t see you. Perhaps it doesn’t matter too much in the house, but I learned to do that on the streets.
Or I could ask her if she wants me to jump on the bed with her. But she seems to take up most of the bed on her own, although I am sure I could find a little Pippaspace.
So basically her day runs an hour later than master’s. Including taking me out at lunchtime and in the evening. And she doesn’t fall for the old “I want a peepee” routine when all I really want to do is run out on the street and investigate all the smells from the cats and dogs that have just wandered past. Master always falls for that one, so she’s a bit too cute there.
She’s a mustard addict. Master normally does the washing up so I haven’t particularly noticed this strange trait before. But when she eventually gets round to swilling a few dishes and things, she always sticks her finger in any left-over dressing that she’s made.
They both like mustard, and she’s always used it when she’s made French dressing (hey, everydog I’m learning about cooking!). Last year though, she discovered a recipe for mustard dressing which involves vast quantities of Dijon mustard – we’re talking tablespoons here not teaspoons – and she makes the stuff nearly every day and then gloops it over fresh artichokes.
In the morning when she tidies up, she sticks her finger in it and goes Yum. Before breakfast! Ugh. With her black coffee. About the only thing I can say to that is at least she doesn’t give me artichokes and dressing for breakfast because I WOULD NOT EAT IT. Oh no. Pippadog is not a mustard addict.
Now the next one I haven’t quite sussed. When master said he was going to go and do some work on the kennelflat, she said: “Oh, that’s good. It will give me chance to get on with the paperwork, cleaning, ironing, dusting, gardening, and spend a bit of time with Pippa, because you won’t be around to distract me.”
What does she do instead? Spends most of her time doing that tiring Internet stuff that leaves her baggy-eyed. Why does she say she’s going to do the other things? I don’t understand this one. If she doesn’t want to do the other things, why not say: “Oh that’s good darling, I can spend even more time messing around on the computer than normal.”
Anyway so long as she keeps the strawberries watered – do I care? We get along pretty well together. And she never tells me off for eating strawberries, and they are hers. She just laughs and walks off. To do…well, something.