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I have to say, I do feel sorry for my dog, Shelley.  It must be traumatic to go through life, living with not one, but two felines of whom you are absolutely terrified.  Except for at meal times, as we’ve discussed in The Yellow Bellied Coward.

I’ve given up trying to figure out how my 70 pound Labrador can assert her right to dominance (by virtue of her size alone, if nothing else) over the 8 pound and 10 pound cats during meal times, but at all other times, she is incapable of standing up for herself. It is simply another one of the many things in life for which any logical explanation escapes me.  I can only imagine it has something to do with the power of food.

Today was a sad day for Shelley dog, as Grey cat sank to an all time low of evilness in the torment of her yellow  house companion.

You see, Shelley is a dog, dogs love to chew, and so it stands to reason that dogs love their chew toys.  We are fortunate in that Shelley does not try to chew things that aren’t hers.  Unfortunately for Shelley, it is the very fact that she respects us too much to chew our stuff that has opened her up to a torment beyond belief.  (Dog lovers beware, read at your own risk, the story below is sad indeed!)

Shelley loves her bullies.  We get her the 3 foot long ones because, well, we like to spoil our 70 pound yellow lap cuddler :-).

Once upon a time, we would bring home a bully and be met at the door by a bouncy ball of yellowness who would accept the bully eagerly, disappear into the living room, and not come out until the bully was gone.

Over time, Shelley has learned to savor her bullies, to chew them a little here, a little there, so that they last a little bit longer.  She especially likes to wait until we are eating to chew her bullies, because when she chews her bullies, a foul, putrid scent is released into the air.  Shelley finds this scent delightful, and enjoys the opportunity to share this obnoxious odor with her two favorite people while they are eating dinner.

Lately, however, Shelley has not been savoring her bully.  I thought perhaps she’d had too many of them and grown weary of chewing bullies.  I suppose it would be like someone having several thousand Reese’s peanut butter cups and finally deciding they had had enough.  That would never happen to me, of course, because I do not believe one can put a limit on how many Reese’s peanut butter cups one can eat.  But I concede that some people, and perhaps even some dogs, may ingest something so excessively that they eventually tire of it altogether.  It is conceivable.

Alas, it turns out, that is not what has happened to Shelley and her love of bullies.

It is far more tragic than that.

For today, as I typed happily away at my computer, relishing the many hours I had to spend with my imaginary friends (characters in my novel) I happened to notice something that caused my heart to ache for my poor, Yellow Bellied Coward.

The Grey cat was methodically rubbing her cheek all the way along the bully.  Inch, by inch, by inch.

It was truly a horror beyond comprehension!  How evil can one cat truly be?

Now, in case I truly was NOT the very last person in the universe to know the following fact, I will tell you that cats rub their cheek along things to mark it with their scent.  You know, to mark it as their own.  To mark their territory.

I repeat, how evil can one cat be?

And NO, before you ask, let me tell you, I have no delusions that Grey cat was unaware of her act.  Even were I to hope that the Grey cat knew not what she did, the triumphant gleam in her eye when I caught her in the act is all the proof I need.

It is a tragic, heart wrenching tale.  I know not what to do.

Well, except for feeding Shelley part of my pizza.  Naturally, what kind of heartless person would I be, were I not to offer her at least a token of consolation?!

Hmm, perhaps if I throw in a few more slices of pepperoni, her wounded pride will be soothed.  Yes, after all, she’s a Labrador, food can fix anything 🙂

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