Friday, January 30, 2009
When you are the youngest of three, invariably you have to face the hierarchy of age, seniority and other territorial imperatives. Bottom line... all the good spots are claimed and you are left to park your tush in uncharted territory.
Moi, mon tush will not settle for anything without a soft cushy feel. It is the Bichon curse. We are bred for upholstery. We are bred for laps, comfort, high end fabrics... you know, silks and such. It is a curse in this polyethylene derivative world. It took me a long time to find "my own place" in my household.
JD, aka Mr Lookout claimed the best look out spot in the house.
While he occasionally shares lookout point, it is his and he makes no concession.
Wendy. Ehmm. My Wendy is forever weaving in and out of table and chair legs. She has claimed the forest of legs. That is where she feels safe. Under tables, under chairs, under things...
Chin on the floor, she is the silent watcher...
Never mind what goes on outside, it is the stuff inside that interests her, BUT only from a safe distance. She will share her spot, but not for long.
Me, I am mix it up kind of girl. I like to be the focal point of the household. I think of myself as the "silicone" spray that facilitates all interactions in the house. I travel freely between chair legs, look out point and anywhere else I like, but, if I have to choose, or actually if I had to stake my claim, they the choice would be easy.... The silky stripy chair with the big pink pillow....
It is silk. It is colorful, it is in the middle of everything. IT is MINE.
Now you do understand that all bets are off if a lap is available, right?