Well this is my new life being psychoanalyzed by a cat. My hu-dad and hu-mom felt sorry for this pretentious impostor who was living on the streets and invited him home to live with us. First it wasn't so bad because he stayed outside in the garage. They even put in a cute little pet door for him, which of course I can't fit through, so all I could do was bark at him and watch him scurry like the little rodent that he is. It may interest you to know that it is a scientific fact that cats evolved from a cross species of rats and cockroaches. I learned this from our mailman Cliff, who really knows just about everything.
Back to my lament. So for weeks my hu-dad and hu-mom fed this unwanted con artist, who just turned his matted little butt to them. I looked though the window and watched them fall to their knees and grovel, treats in hand, trying to get some simple acknowledgement from this pestilent beggar. For days nothing, no response, but one fateful day my hu-dad fed the vermin out of his hand and then "it" rubbed up against him spreading it's fur dander poisons all over dad's arm, Yuk it was sickening.
The next thing I hear is dad telling mom, "we had a huge break though with the cat, I think we should name him so he can get used to us calling him." They sat down with a friend and finally all agreed on the name Shadow. I suggested adding a "Y" to the end of the name, but they claim that they couldn't understand me, yeah right! It wasn't quite two days later that they invited "Shadowy" into the house. That's when it happened, I flipped out. I charged at the intruder and barked as loud as I could only to be rebuffed by it's secret weapon, "morphing". He arched his back, made his hair stand on end and displayed Edward's Scissor-hand appendages as he hissed at me, "at me, the regal protector of the mansion and all that's holy."
To my amazement dad and mom hollered at me and did that disgusting "Dog whisperer" thing of poking me in my chest and spitting at me through pursed lips. Where did he come up with that? It's not scary or startling, I just can't stand the spit all over my face. So, I was given special CIA operative desensitization training, so that I could be more tolerant and welcoming of "new family members" into our home. Now Shadowy has gone from "fluffy the slinking rodent-cat" that nobody in the neighborhood liked, including and especially me, to "my brother?" He doesn't even have to wear a collar or stay in the yard. He takes off all the time and brings back birds and gophers and other helpless things. That's my job!! Each time my hu-mom says, "oh look what he's brought back for you now honey." What? What? Are you kidding me? If I had opposable thumbs and could talk I'd dial animal services and report him. Hey no collar, no computer chip, no problem. Maybe I could just e-mail them with an anonymous complaint?
So what you see in this picture is DR. Shadowy, his status having astronomically skyrocketed in a few short months counseling me on how to discover my inner-self and live in the present in true peace and harmony, this at mom and dad's suggestion! Stay tuned.