Smokey is so busted.
I have heard about the “peace of the water hole.” Apparently, in inclement weather there is also the “peace of the fire place.”
I include completely unaltered photos of the situation in front of the fire yesterday afternoon.
This is not to say that all is love and tolerance of the “Dog” (please imagine this epithet uttered in complete cat contempt). Yesterday I was sitting in the rocking chair, and Ruby became a trifle too enamored of me. She edged closer and closer, placed her worshipful head on my knee. I leaned forward and OUCH! I inadvertently rocked on her toe.
Her agonized wail echoed through the house, and immediately Smokey came stalking around the corner from the living room, loaded for bear. I do not know what the cat thought the dog was saying, but apparently it was not considered appropriate, possibly even war-mongering. The attitude was in your face, MEAN, and included “I’m going to smack you upside the head. With claws.” I could just hear him: “What’s all the crying about? If I hear any more of this I’ll give you something to cry about!”
I was comforting the poor dog, and Jim had to actually get up and chase Smokey out of the room and down the hall into the living room before he was going to back down.
I don’t always understand the cat/dog dynamic.
the havens 