Just In Case You Forgot: I Hate You

This little episode has more to do with Skippy's dysfunctional relationship with the cat rather than some peculiarity of her innate Jack Russell-ness. If you haven't read the previous posts on the cat you might want to just to give this a little more flavour.

As we know, Kitty has little time or love for Skippy. Although the occasional moments of peace occur between them -- when they can both co-exist on the same bed or couch without incident -- they are treasured rarities in our household. Often is the case where Skippy is hissed at for either being too close, too loud, or maybe the cat smells something our human noses can't detect.

On this particular occasion, poor Skippy was targeted for no fault of her own, but simply because she existed. She breathes the same air as Kitty and on this day it was made clear that this was unacceptable. It was a quiet afternoon. Skippy was napping as is her usual custom after long nights of licking the bed sheets, scratching herself and snoring louder than my grandfather did in his recliner. She was in her little Skippy-sized bed on the floor of our study dreaming of exotic textiles from the Far East or imagining herself running clockwise around a track, only able to make right turns.

Kitty was also napping in a different room but thought it good to get up and stretch her legs, eat some food, and make a quick patrol of the grounds before settling back down to complete the last quarter of her long daytime slumber. In the course of her rounds she happened upon Skippy sleeping so peacefully. As Kitty watched her, she was suddenly reminded of how much she hated Skippy, and of course, this was something the dog ought to be reminded of. So she walked up to the sleeping Jack Russell and gently nudged her with her paw. There was no need for claws on this occasion: just a nudge would do to rouse her. After being prodded for a few seconds, Skippy finally awoke and lifted her head to see the cat sitting in front of her. Kitty hissed, and walked away, leaving a very confused and distraught dog wondering what had just happened. She turned to my wife, hoping for some kind of explanation, but none could be given.

Poor Skippy: maybe the cat hates it when you lick fabric

Perhaps the cat did it to make her feel better about herself, as bullies so often do. But I think the explanation is much simpler: a gentle reminder of an important fact to a dog who clearly has memory issues.