Daily Dose of Cute

Lest there be any question about who really rules Shakes Manor, it is Olivia. Exhibit A:


Video Description: Zelda the Black-and-Tan Mutt eats breakfast out of her bowl. At the other bowl, Olivia the Cat is eating, while Dudley the Greyhound stands to one side, forlorn and helpless, looking at Iain and me plaintively. "Dudley, who's eatin' your food?" I ask him. He looks down at Olivia. "Is Olivia eatin' it?" I laugh. Zelda and Dudley look at us. "He's like, 'What the hell?'" I say. He towers over her, staring down at her eating away. "She rules them so hard," I say. "Look at 'em." Dudley stares, fecklessly. "Dudley," I say, and he looks at me. "Just tell her to get lost. Say: 'Don't eat my food!'" His ears twitch. "Say: 'Hey, kitty-cat! Don't eat my food!'" He looks back at her; hovers.

Iain says, "What worries me is I JUST FED HER." (We just had her at the vet; nothing's wrong with her. She's just a little piggy.) "Eh, she just likes their food better," I say, "especially now that we're feeding them the salmon." Iain corrects me: "It's turkey." I reply: "Oh, is it turkey?" Olivia starts to move away from the bowl, and I exclaim, "Oh, she's gone, Dudz! Hurry!" But she just swings around and starts eating it from the other direction. "Go get it!" I tell him. He flicks his ears, looks back at me as if to say, "Can't you SEE that she's STILL HERE?!"

Dudley turns back to the food and hangs his head pathetically. He leans toward Zelda and sniffs at her bowl. I laugh. "It's total confusion," Iain says. I say: "He's like, 'Zelda, can I have some of yours?'" Iain bursts out laughing. I laugh more. Olivia walks away from the bowl and into the kitchen. Dudley immediately sticks his head in the bowl and begins eating. "Oh, finally," I say. "Phew. He might've starved there."

"It's really funny that he did not bully her out of the way," Iain observes. "Nah," I say. "He's too sweet. He's a good boy." Dudley and Zelda eat their breakfast contentedly, side-by-side.

Dudley and Zelda confab while Olivia eats out of one of the dog dishes
"We have really got to do something about this." "You do something." "No, YOU do it!"

And Exhibit B:

image of Olivia sitting in a cat bed on top of a table in our living room

There used to be a beautiful white glass lamp there. Used to be. Then Olivia decided she wanted that space for herself. For a few weeks, we were chasing Livs off the table, and moving the lamp back into place, after she'd pushed it to the edge to make room for herself to sprawl. Eventually, the lamp ended up shattered on the floor. Now there is no lamp and a cat bed where the lamp used to be.

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