So, I’m cooking sunday breakfast. The Mister, sitting at the dining room table, turns around to realize Jane is no longer in the dining room. The Mister quietly announces that he’s going to see if he can coax her back with us. He assumes that she’s in the back bedroom, her safe spot. About a minute later, I hear The Mister, “I think you’ll want to get your camera for this.” As I grab my camera I see that he’s standing outside the guest room door. Uh-oh.
I find her:
I take the photos, trying not to laugh as I rejoice in her boldness, then ask her to get down (no dogs on the human furniture here). Nope! I give her a little tug, and she stands, turns herself around, and flops down facing the other way. Then she invokes one of her superpowers: I Am An Elephant, a power where she suddenly weighs 2,000 pounds. Said she, “I Am NOT budging.”
I had to pick her up, and carry her into the hallway, at which point, she trotted confidently to her safe spot in the back room – an 8″ thick geriatric foam bed that I myself have had lovely naps on. She flopped down, letting out an audible breath, and then proceeded, without a doubt, to seriously pout. “ratz-n-fratzn’-foodlady-mumble-bumble-my-queen-bed-rumble-mumble-i-am-the-queen-flumble-mumble.”
Huzzah! to comfort! to security! to finding a bit of one’s inner boldness!