Background
This is a series of Pet Stories. There are tales of many of my pets over the years, but the current 'stars' are Bernie and Howie. Their latest adventures will be sprinkled in here and there.
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Simba sat in one of his usual spots. He claims all of the corners in the house but he particularly loves dark corners where he can fit under a piece of furniture and still see the room. Every day Mom is giving the little dog more and more time to simply roam the house. From these darkest spots, Simba can observe the little beast and keep an eye on him. He doesn't want to take the chance of Mr. Harley sneaking up on him.
He cleans his enormous front paws. Each of his forefeet measures four inches in diameter. The removal of his claws by his first owners seemed to make them even bigger. He chews on the black furry tufts residing between each of the pads. He rubs his tongue against the roof of his mouth in an effort to get rid of the fur coating the surface. It is such a chore to have long, luxurious, silken fur.
From the bedroom, Simba can hear the sounds of Mom waking up. In his mind's eye, he follows her early morning routine. First she stretches under the covers. He can hear the snap, crackle and pop of her spine as she extends her legs and toes. With a sigh, she tosses the covers aside. He hears Leo's protest as she moves her head from the pillow.
Leo lives within the fairy tale that her pillow will always be his spot. In Simba's mind, he wonders how much longer until the little dog claims the bed at night. Leo still holds out for the notion the little beast is simply visiting. Simba knows better. He's lived longer and shared other houses with other dogs.
Flicking his ears forward, he is focused on the movement of Mom's feet as she moves across the living room. He can hear Mr. Harley whine softly as she approaches the gate that keeps him in the kitchen. Hidden in the shadows, he watches the sickening exchange of baby talk she has with the little dog. He hears her back pop and crack as she bends to lift him over the gate. She cuddles him lovingly in her arms and talks to him as she walks towards the room with her books and small screen.
With great anticipation, Simba watches her prepare the room for Harley's maniacal running. She makes sure he has plenty of toys to chew on before she closes the glass french doors. Simba does some stretching of his own as he prepares to play the game he invented.
He ambles across the living room and his eyes never lose sight of the unsuspecting Mr. Harley playing in the den. Simba is confident the doors are closed tight because the sound of Mom hitting the key thing by the screen is muted. He uses all of his stealth to arrive at the door. He lays his ears flat against his head and plops down with his eyes peering through the door.
Leo can see Simba's progress across the living room from his perch on the back of the recliner. He decides to join in the fun. This game works even better when both of them play on their side of the glass.
Harley's inquisitive nose stops smelling every inch of the den as the lovely aroma of his housemates reaches him. In hot pursuit, he runs towards the closed doors and can barely make out the outline of Simba's big black shape. With his approach, Simba starts the low growl that plays in the background of this game. In Harley's peripheral vision, he spies Leo's ghostly silver presence and his little tail wags. This will be great fun! Both kitties are playing with him.
Amidst the sounds of both cats' playful growls and Harley's incessant puppy bark, Mom stops working. She looks for her camera in vain. It sits out in the living room on the other side of the glass doors. Frustrated at her inability to get a proper picture, she memorizes every detail of this game of Simba's making.
Knowing they are safe with the door between them, both Simba and Leo taunt Harley at every turn. He frantically runs across the width of the double doors barking. He bows his back with his front paws extended, beseeching the cats to play fair, but they laugh their kitty taunts while growling and snarling. An occasional hiss is thrown in for good measure. They can't let on to anyone they are truly enjoying themselves.
Harley valiantly plays and refuses to give up. After almost ten minutes of this game, Harley's tongue is hanging out of his mouth, and his breathing is labored. Recognizing the signs, Mom goes to pick him up. She opens the glass doors, and Simba and Leo disappear into the recesses of the house.
Cool water is waiting in the kitchen. Harley laps it up with a grateful heart and is happy to see his kibble bowl is full. After a refreshing snack, he returns to his blanket by the kitchen's archway. He peers through the gate's slats. He can smell the kitties somewhere out there. Laying down his head on his paws, he closes his eyes. He'll get them. Maybe next time they play, or even the day after that. It will happen. He is sure of it.
Author Notes
originally posted in January of 2011
At this time, Harley, Simba and Leo have accepted their fate. They will be living together and need to share Mom's time, the house, and refrain from killing each other.
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