"Snoop Maximus"

The elders of the house have all deserted to various locales around the country so I am hijacking the computer again. She really needs to change the password though...I feel “Maximus_Is_King” would be suitable.

Well isn’t that poetic.....the juniors have had their first trip to the vet.

I am smiling.

Now they will not be able to reproduce. I see no issue with this (neither do they at present as they have no idea what’s actually happened) as I feel more of the little furshirts would just be even more annoying than these two already are! But it is funny how one trip to the vet can change your life so dramatically. 

I went there once...and came back with NO BLOODY TESTICLES!!

This means no little Maximi! Now THAT is a tragedy.

But that’s the thing with females of the species, nothing goes missing in these operations, or if it does nothing that can be seen from the outside. No mark of their femaleness slashed and emptied like shucking oysters (Mine were decent sized oysters by the way...just saying).

It’s just all very thought provoking.

Now while I must admit, I am getting used to these two little interlopers hanging around I was not impressed with whatever the hell they came home from the vet in; scared the living bejesus out of me. Massive great cones around their heads...other than looking completely ridiculous, they also looked like occupants of another planet.

...that unfortunately I couldn't send them back to.

But I digress.

I just about had conniptions. And I made a point of going nowhere near their little hooverish heads. (Though to their credit, I'm damn sure we got better cell phone reception while they had them on.)

The purpose of these apparatuses was to stop them getting to their stitches. The little goobers still managed it though and also drove the human female of the house demented by licking the inside of their cones repetitively in the vain hope that they might eventually make fur contact and have their bath complete.

After 3 days of this attempted bathing, the cones came off. The little clean freaks are now washed and order is restored to the household. And I can finally bloody sleep in peace without that infernal woman bellowing every five minutes: “Shiraz and Merlot! If you don’t stop licking the inside of those God damned cones, I'm going to takes the things off and jam it up your little furry arses!”

Well now....aggressive much? (And wholly ineffective as it turns out.) Must have been that time of the month. Maybe she needs a trip to the vet.

The most delightful thing about them all being clamped, chipped and vacced though, is that soon they can sod off outside. If the whim takes me, I may even sod off with them

I know, I know, you’re all thinking I have gone soft, but this is not the case. I am merely changing my approach. It is much easier to manoeuvre (thus corrupt – and possibly export) my little furry minions if they think I am friend rather than foe. 

  

I'm actually achieving success here already. Merlot has now learned to scratch at doors. For some reason the humans all looked at me when this first occurred! I just gave them my: “Well you brought them here” look. I don’t think they were impressed.

Then there was the time that I taught Merlot how to jump up the water feature and walk along the fence to freedom. One night out on the town, pre being fixed, and next thing you know, they’re inside cats. Oops, sorry ‘bout it.

Well the elders did install the little twerps here, it’s not my fault that some of my awesomeness is rubbing off on them. It’s only to be expected.

Just so long as they know who the boss is

And that’s all in the little things I have found: commandeer a sleeping spot here, piddle in a litter tray there...they know the story. 

I may not have testicles but by crikey I still know how to work the ladies.

"Snoop Maximus"

Has quite a ring to it really.