I had had my eyes on a particular specimen. A 2 year old cat. His owner had passed away and he was older. Winner to me. For some reason I hate having young animals. I'd rather have a broken' in model.
The adopted feline; Parker. Or his full name Peter Parker Prometheus Popodopolous Mullins
Parker was awesome. Took him a couple of days to adjust but then it was simple. He knew where to use the bathroom. The red dot that would appear was meant for chasing. Furniture is not a clawing area. Kneading akin is wrong. Amazing animal...until.
My boss, and long time friend as well as fraternity brother decided he was going to take his vacation. But he needed someone to watch his dog.
Fear of the stereotype of dogs and cats, I wanted to do a test run tonight. The dog, Connor, was chill. Curious of his new environment, did a little recon of the small studio apartment I reside in. Parker, you ask?
Pictured above was Parker's reaction to another animal. My god I hate his acceptance of a dog.
After Flipper (yea, we call my boss Flipper) with Connor, does Parker calm down? NO! He kept sulking in the corner. After multiple treats and me petting on him and trying baby talk I picked him up like I usually do. His reaction?
Growls. As if I was Connor. Then, a flogging of paws and claws. After reading many articles on the Interwebs I have used this plan of action to avoid those shit brains at the ASPCA.
What we've had here is, failure, to communicate.
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