Letter from Esme
Thought I'd drop you a quick note to let you know what I've been up to since I moved out of home, and into Casa Wilden.
First, I have had plenty of sleep as you will see from the attached pictures. The folks who I house share with appear to be very nice. I say this, as I have devised a number of character tests that have enabled me to determine whether I would like to continue my association with them in the long term, or whether I grow opposable thumbs, steal one of their mobile phones, and ask you to pick me up and find me a better home.
To date, they have met all my benchmarks - well, there are only two - including:
Letting me sleep on the bed with them, after I managed to knock down their pathetic attempt at a puppy pen around my bed on the floor next to them. Pffft. As if I'm going to sleep on the floor like some down-trodden wretch, when I clearly deserve to snuggle with the folks who feed me.
I've been successful in obtaining a prime spot in between the folks, which enables me to sleep horizontally. I can then let them know how much I appreciate them sharing their space with me, by simultaneously pummelling them with my giganto paws when I have running dreams. It kind of backfired a bit last night, though when, in a deep sleep slumped across the legs of the lady who serves me, I managed to roll off the bed at 2.30am. It was a bit of a shock, but even worse, the man who serves me decided that as I was awake, it would be a good idea for him to take me outside for my middle of the night wee. In the rain. I can only blame myself for the way that turned out, and will make sure to avoid the edge of the bed from here on in.Giving in to their entreaties that I 'sit'. I do it regularly now, accompanied by my best 'I'm just a poor little dog, all alone in the world' face, and am finding this works to my advantage. I think they may be a little simple minded. Of course I will sit if I get a treat! It's unladylike to eat whilst standing.
To be honest, I'd do a soft shoe shuffle and a handstand for less .... but I'll keep that in my back pocket for now, and pull it out as my get out of gaol free card sometime in the future when I 'accidentally' destroy a shoe, or furniture, or some other prized possession.
What I'm having trouble coming to grips with are the other two hairy beasts that I occasionally spot roaming around the house. I am separated from them by the same type of flimsy pen fence that surrounded my unsatisfactory initial sleeping quarters. I tried yelling at them to gain their attention, but they just ran away. I've since realised that yelling doesn't win friends, and I'd dearly love to be their friend, but they appear committed in their resolve to avoid me. I do worry about them, though, as I don't think I've ever seen them blink. I submit to you, photographic evidence of what I am terming 'Martyr-cats', so that you don't think I've reached the point of seeing things. If they are dogs, they are very ugly.
In exciting news, I have been for 3 walks outside the house and yard with the folks who serve me! I have to tether one of them to me, as I get concerned that their simple-mindedness could result in one or both of them wandering off and getting killed. Then who would feed me? Truly, they are very lucky to have me looking out for them.
I was also transported, albeit briefly, to one of our walking destinations (see pics below). As you are well aware, I do not like this method of transport, but endured it for the entire 2 minute journey, whilst letting the folks know that I was most displeased. I did this through a continual stream of invective .... disguised as whimpering, lest they understand me and take away my snacks on account of my swearing and general blaspheming. I am finding that whimpering is a very powerful weapon, and should be used sparingly lest I overplay my hand.
Anyway, todays walk was most enjoyable, and I was far too happy to muster even the slightest whimper on the 2 minute drive back home. I was then supplied with a hearty lunch and slept for the better part of 2 and a half hours.
So, that pretty much sums up the first few days here, and I have to say, the folks you employed to serve me seem to be doing well. However, they have said the phrase 'God, I'm so tired my eyes are bleeding' a few times. I don't know what this means, nor do I care. As long as they keep the meals, entertainment, walks, belly rubs, cuddles, and comfortable sleeping arrangement coming, they can bleed out their eyes for as long as they want.
I hope all are well at Swashbuckle. It might be a good idea not to let the others know how good I have it here, as when I come to visit, I would prefer their sympathy and an open-arms welcome as opposed to a jealous snubbing. Maybe just let them know that I'm 'hanging in there', and 'doing the best that I can'.
'Til next time
Esme XxOxX
