DISOBEDIENT PETS

The other night Her Excellency of Mousehole took this picture of Pika. She is curled up in a basket that had held Christmas treats for the neighbors. Pika KNOWS she is not supposed to be on the table but there she was, as if she owned it. The next day here she was again.

Pika! What are you doing on the table?"

Her usual response to my cat-on-the-table hysteria is to run because my hysteria is usually followed by my getting a squirt-bottle of water.

Not this time.

"I am not on the table you silly, loud, hysterical human. I am in a basket. Now go away. You are disturbing my nap."

So I went away--after moving the basket, cat and all, to the floor. I wanted to shake it before setting it down but restrained myself.

I went upstairs and found a huge mess in the bathroom. Kramer had delicatly plucked hundreds of fibers out of the rug. I was so astonished I forgot to take a picture but later took a picture of the garbage can after two hands full of plucked fibers were thrown away. I was up there later and he'd done it again.

The rug will soon be bald. I went downstairs to have a little talk with him. I couldn't bring myself to do it. He looked so forlorn, curled up--not on the beach towel but next to it. And as I turned to leave he made a tiny little dog pouffer and it drove me out of the room and out of the house and I have now applied for citizenship in pet-free countries.