Entry #15, Feb. 25

Eleanor's Blog

Entry-15

Last week was a pleasant one, as I once again returned to the residence of Mr. No Claws, and that hilariously stupid dog. The week was filled with well-earned battle scars and bragging rights, as No Claws and I scrapped on several occasions. He’s a funny old grump, and I think he’s forgiven me for the time I ripped a large part of his fur out.

Upon my return to the regular pen, I immediately took part in several activities. One of those activities – one of my favourites actually – is watching either Tree One or Two wash dishes. I nestle into the basket next to them, and try to be annoying as possible. Their frustration doesn’t build up to a full blown arm-waving rage attack, like when I chew cables out of their reach, but it’s still fun. Getting a close look at the running water is also fascinating. I hate getting sprayed in the face by that ridiculous spray bottle the Trees use, but it’s really hard for me to avoid any situations that involve running water. I often tease myself, thinking I could run under it at times, but I chicken out at the last second. One day, I will be the master of running water, and perhaps I will even stand up to the spray bottle. Thinking far ahead though, baby steps Eleanor, baby steps.

Time to play fetch now. If the Trees don’t cooperate I’m going to bite them so hard.

Advertisements

Entry #14, Feb. 9

Eleanor's Blog

DSCF1922

 

After several weeks, Tree One and Two have brought back the spray bottle, and I’m terrified of it.

As you can see in the picture above, taken right before I was sprayed with water, I get very nervous around the weapon. It is strange however, because the damn thing hardly phased me in the past. I figured the Trees simply gave up on the spray bottle after I stood up to the little gizmo time and time again. Water would hit me in the face, but I would stand strong and continue my malicious activities. Now they have brought it back, and my recent streak of scummy behaviour has resulted in several unsuspecting sprays to the face. This time however, I can’t stand it.

I just need to hear the bottle being shaken, and I run away like a coward. This is quite a pathetic weakness of mine, and certainly hinders my plans at causing a lot of trouble, especially around the nest of cables (see previous entry).

I must rely on stealth attacks, know when the bottle isn’t around. Dart in and out, quick bites, and then disappear into the darkness. It may take a while for me to once again brave the spray bottle. Until then, I must go about being naughty in a more elegant way.

I also ate a bug today, and it was fabulous.