Henry hasn’t been the same since he’s returned from his Thanksgiving week in the country. He slept through his first day back home. Not so much as a grain of his favorite dog food could persuade this Cavalier King Charles Spaniel to get out of his bed. I even pulled out his absolute favorite delicacy, salmon biscuits.
But, no. For a moment, he raised his head from its resting place. His lip quivered as his nose took in the scent of fish. But alas, he put his head back down, as if to say, “not interested.”
Every once in a while he’d roll over and sigh, and at least once I heard him softly moan, “Woe is me.”
On his second day home, he stirred.
“Henry, get up!” I cried. “There’s a world out there waiting for you to pee on. Whatever happened in the country couldn’t have been that bad. Besides, the parlor maid and the kids think you’re a good egg.”
Henry looked at me sheepishly and said, “Where do I begin to describe my week in the country? With the turkey and the promise of dining on the white meat?”
“So, did you?”
“Not a scrap. The parlor maid’s a vegetarian, of all things, and I would have none of her tofu-turkey. The outrage! I had to resort to fortifying myself with leftover doggie treats.”
“Well, at least you had time to rest, right?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way. There is the matter of he, who shall not be named.”
“He? Do you mean Lord Voldemort?”
“Don’t be absurd! I’m talking about Elwood, the new puppy. Apparently, he’s a Great Pyrenees who hails from France—and you know what we Brits think of the French and their penchant for snails.”
“So, what did he do to you?”
“It’s what he didn’t do. Showed me no respect, he did. Never bowed in my presence. Though, he did drool, slobber and attempted to jump me as if I was nothing more than a rapscallion.”
“How did you deal with it?”
“Let’s just say I held my own. But, frankly, I’ll never be the same again. Takes a lot of grit, sweat and determination to hold such wild beasts at bay. Luckily my royal blood is full of it.”
“Full of it?”
“Yes, when we Cavaliers put our minds to it, there’s nothing we can’t overcome, including dogs determined to suck our souls right out of us. Where are my vapors?!”
“Henry, you don’t have any vapors. Anyway, I’m sure that’s not what Elwood was trying to do. He’s a puppy, for goodness sake. He just wanted to be friends with you.”
“Friends? I think not! Don’t be naive, Cook. The likes of Elwood want nothing more than to dethrone my breed, usurp our good standing, and take over the world. In other words, he was prepared to do anything to steal my doggie bed. Luckily he’s way too big for it. And I say, let sleeping dogs lie. And, by sleeping dogs, I mean, me!”
“Well did you at least take nice walks for your daily constitutional?”
“Not really. Have you seen how many hills there are in the country? After walking 50 feet, I’d refuse to budge until the little boy ward had no choice but to carry me home. I even slept in his bed at night, taking up as much room as I could, and he never complained. Good sport, that one.”
“Was there anything else that happened while you were there?”
“As a matter of fact, they had the nerve to allow a visitor, but not just any visitor. This dog was an Australian cattle dog, with convict bloodlines to be certain. I stared at her the whole time and it was completely exhausting because I was afraid she was going to steal my imported Alaskan salmon treats.”
“Oh, dear, you have had a go of it, haven’t you. Well, the next time you visit the country, I’m sure—.”
“Next time, Cook? Oh no, not if I can help it! From now on you’re staying put. Hmmph! The very idea of a next time. No, ma’am!”
“Henry! What’s that I hear?” I exclaim, in my attempt to distract him. Sounds like a truck coming this way!”
“Good Lord,” Henry cries. “Must run to the window and bark like a banshee! We’ll finish this discussion next time, Cook! Pressing matters await!”
And with that, Henry flew off to ward off a possible attack from the passing truck.
So, how do your pets fare when you leave town?
Sir Henry, Roxy and I send you many, many hugs and kisses hoping these will help ease your suffering. Fortunately, your days in the country are in the past and you are once again in the lovely company of cook. Salmon biscuits, really? Roxy is now demanding I purchase or bake this delicacy! hee hee! We love you, Sir Henry! 🙂
Poor Henry – having to put up with such treatment! No wonder he was traumatized 🙂
Yes, indeed, Bassa. Hopefully, the nightmare terrors he’s been having will go away soon! 😉
Poor Henry. Had himself a nightmare of a Thanksgiving. Must be shell-shocked, Cook. Looks like you’ll have to come with something better than salmon biscuits.
Henry is a loner at heart. Half cat, really. Now that it’s been some time since he’s returned he’s feeling more like his old self. He’ll be okay, and the salmon biscuits, along with the chicken parmesan tidbits I procured for him while in Seattle, are doing the trick.
Oh Henry, you poor chap. I imagine you feel much better now that you are in charge of your own domain. I don’t know how you might prevent Cook from going on another trip, but maybe if you’re polite and ask nicely, not demand, as royals sometimes do, you could come over and I would treat you with plenty of pomp and pageantry. I have two little house maids who are trained in the art of pampering. You would receive the most royal treatment available, not to mention some white meat. Forgive my tardy suggestion, but bear it in mind for the next time. However, since I live many miles away, it would pose a certain amount of inconvenience trying to get you across to my humble house and Cook will not thank me for it.
MM, I know Henry would enjoy a visit to your abode. He just adores being pampered, and we know how you yourself hold royalty in such high esteem. So he’d certainly be in good hands. It’s just the train ride that might do him in. He’s not keen on trains. Feels they would joust him about too much, and the thought of it is ghastly to him. We’ll have to come up with an alternative plan. 😉
Well, I just don’t go anywhere, and my cats are one big reason why. I’m afraid to board them because they might be reminded of the animal shelter from whence they came. And I have one kitty with a sensitive tum-tum who has to be fed in small amounts every few hours, which makes having a cat sitter expen$ive.
I would love to be a cat owned by me. Waited on hand and foot!! 8).
Merry Xmas to you and Henry!
Eloise, you’re on to something there. Traveling is certainly harder when you have pets. Best to stay home which is something I’m looking forward to doing. At least, for the foreseeable future.
Yes, I really need to work on that particular guilt trip – boarding them somewhere. Mom (moi) needs to get a (travelling) life! Cheers!
I wouldn’t mind to live Henri’s life just for one day!
One day would be good. Heck I’d take a week. Anything longer and we might get bored.
When grandson #1 was born and came home from the hospital, my daughter’s cat would kind of look at him incredulously and with indifference, then walk away–no curiosity… like he was wondering “Why would you want to bring him home when you have me?”
Well, Georgette, your daughter’s cat sounds very smart, indeed. After all, what’s the old adage? Oh yeah, curiosity killed the cat. 😉
Hi Monica! Scarlett, my girly-dog has no tolerence for anything small and noisy…unfortunately that not only includes puppies and kittens, it includes my grandson. She’ll put up with him for an amazing 30 minutes, tops. But then she tries to avoid him by hiding under the table, going into another room or simply sitting next to me in the hopes of my shuttling the child to another location. After awhile she sighs in relief when I put her in her crate, because she knows that the grabby baby-thing will not get at her.
Scarlett sounds like a girl of independent means. Like her namesake, she knows what she wants and won’t stop until she gets it. Peace. 😉
I use to have a housesitter, Scarlett didn’t mind this so much. Now though, she is so old I board her, this she minds a great deal and I can hear her set up a terrible howl when I drop her off. When I pick her up she ignores me, for a day pretending I do not exist until I bribe her with pets and treats. But she is very old (16) so I forgive her.
I love these posts.
Val, I think pets know how to get the better of us until we bestow on them all the treats in the world. 😉
ooooo, poor lovely Henry!!
When we leave our cats, they usually turn their fat back-sides on us when we return home
Xxx Kissss & Hugs for you and Henry.
Thank you, Kim. Henry will feel so much better knowing you understand his pain. In my youth I had a cat and I know how unforgiving they can be. Talk about holding a grudge. My cat ended up peeing on my ex’s backpack when we returned from a trip. Now, I wonder where she got that idea from? Hmm…
Poor Henry! LOL!
You said a mouthful, Michael Ann!
Elwood is going to be one BIG dog, isn’t he, Henry? Ah, you poor thing. Dallas has only been boarded once in his six years of life, and actually, he fared pretty well. It was a short visit — just three days — but when I picked him up, he had just as many complaints as Sir Henry. Especially since he had to put up with noisy boarders and didn’t get his usual supply of treats!
Debbie, what are you talking about? Elwood already is ONE BIG DOG. I could ride him like a horse, if I wanted to. He’s HUGE! But Henry held is own. Wouldn’t let Elwood get the better of him. And when the Australian Cattle dog stopped by, the children tried to keep Henry apart of the Australian, knowing as they did, the history between the British (royalty) and the Aussie (convicts). Alas, to no avail. Mix they did. 😉
God, I LOVE these posts about Henry! When we leave town, Ralph seems to enjoy the adventure, for the most part. Lucy–not so much! She wants to be with Mommy! To think I’d ever leave her. Like to never hear the end of it.
Sorry to be so behind on my blog reading!
Thanks, Kathy! And when are you going to write such a post from your pets? What are you waiting for? Hoping they’ll just dictate it to you–as Henry does (of course)? 😉
It’s so sad right, they think you are gone forever and it is so confusing for them. i think tons of people just don’t go away for this reason and is why my husband doesn’t want a dog.
The thing about dogs, Jodi, is that they get over it. Once you’re back they’re so excited to see you, that all seems to be forgotten. Even Henry was elated for 5 minutes, before conking out.
Whenever I left Maggie with our dog sitter, she used to give me that look: ‘where are you going?” it was situation where a woman watched dogs in her home — so they got to mingle, play, and I’m sure stir up trouble at least sometimes. At one time, she had a small monkey and a cockatoo. Visiting her made me smile — and Maggie (mostly) loved it. I called it her vacation home.
Deborah, I think I know the look. I’ve seen it on Henry when I leave him. Panic crosses over his face, but then he saunters away in search of new things to sniff at. He does tend to exaggerate. I think he had more fun than he’s letting on.
Oh my. Lulu & Sofie love their dog sitter, Sonja, who has 5 dogs of her own. Sonja comes in and watches the kitties while she takes our dogs to her place. They usually are happy to be home. Henry seems back to normal though
And, I must admit, it’s always nice to come back and see your pets, especially when they’re so happy to see you, too. Henry needed a good 24 hours to recoup from his trip. Poor thing was so pooped, but he’s back to his old self now.
Lola likes the girls who take care of her when we travel but she loves it when we come home because we always take her straight to the beach. It’s a nice homecoming for everyone .
There’s no place like home, eh, Lola? I like traveling, but I’m with Lola. Home and the beach. Who could ask for anything more?
I suspect poor Henry will not be the same until he receives his promised and much deserved white turkey meat. I mean really, tofu?
Exactly, Lisa. Though the scullery maid insists she had some white meat on hand for the little king, Henry says otherwise. I ask you. Who can you believe? I’ve heard it said, after all, royalty never lies. 😉
Poor young Henry.
You see Henry when you mix with the commoners amongst breeds you must make allowances for such things as they raise their left leg to pee instead of their right which is the Royal way, they eat dog food out of a can. Plus they take long walks on the ends of leads, where as Royal dogs go for long drives in cars driven by Cooks and then run around on a nice bit of flat grass followed by a sit in the sun and a good tummy tickle, that’s your tummy by the way NOT Cooks.
As for eating white meat on your holiday!! It’s just not on old chap, I mean if you had then you would have had to share it, then what would have happened? I tell you the commoners would have developed a taste for it, the price would have gone down through the floor due to extra demand and it would no longer be the food of Kings!! I mean white meat eaten by mongrels there would have been questions asked in the Senate at the very least. Who knows the Presidents dog could have raised it with his Cook and her husband, oh the shame that would have spread across the country. It could have spread to Alaska, and there they think white meat is raw fish!!!!
We used to have a Royal dog Henry he was a Poodle and his kennel name was “Romar Royal Pickle” He was known as Branston to his friends because he was pickle coloured, he loved white meat because it caused him to burp at both ends.
Always remember when dealing with the common dogs Henry that you should never go down to their level because if you do they will only beat you through experience at that level.
Henry appreciates all the advice, though as king, he always feels he knows best. Therefore, everything you say, he’s taking with a grain of salt. That said, he politely thanks you. 🙂
Perhaps I should apply for a job as royal doggie adviser?
Then again perhaps not!!!
Salmon biscuits ? Well did you serve with light Zinfandel wine to allure?
Henry is a big aficionado of all thing’s salmon. Especially biscuits!