I haven't posted much about Miss Klea because lately she's been a real brat. And I don't want to turn into one of those complaining moms who turns you against her kids because she doesn't share the good times with you.
But yeah, she's been a mess. When we go on walks, she decides which direction we will go in. And if I don't like it and try to change the path, she sits down. Right where she is and pretty much refuses to budge or acknowlege me yanking on her leash.
Also, cat chasing is her new thing. Ginger was always the chaser and Klea is attached to me at the ankle so I've never worried about her going anywhere. But one morning, I was taking out the trash and I just let her walk beside me on her leash. She always takes the sidewalk because last fall she got a pine needle in her paw and it ended life as she knew it. I should have known something was up when she walked across the grass. Her perked up ears should have been all the sign I needed. I guess I'm not that smart. Because the next thing I knew she had sprinted off into the darkness to chase a cat. I went to look for her and after giving up, came home to find her sitting on the porch staring at the front door willing it to open. I gave her my angry face and she just smiled so proud of her chase and quite obviously starving.
Of all the things I love about Klea, the one thing I could do without is her need to drape herself all over me. Now that she can jump on the bed, she'll take every chance she can to lay across my chest or face and pin me beneath her. Or she'll roll over and start panting her kibble breath in my face. If I sit on the couch, sitting next to me and touching me is not enough. She needs to have a paw or her head or her whole upper body stretched out across my lap lest I decide to get up without warning.
Last week she had some serious bowel trouble. They were hard and she spent a lot of time trying to push them out. I wont go into how worried I was by it. Especially since nothing in her diet had changed. Then one day she only ate half her food. Which is crazy because, while I love her, Klea is a hoss. But she did eat some grass here and there along our walk. I let her because I know that (mostly) she knows what she needs to feel better. But now? Now her poo is like chocolate mousse and that just aint right. I hate going near it or having to pick it up because it's all sticky in the bag and stuff. Ick!
Not sure what I'm gonna do about this either. Probably nothing because she seems to be back to her normal self. Her normal, treat-loving, attention-whoring, "Oh-my-God-that's-the-Queen's-dog" basking self. And I? I'll just be back here wiping chocolate mousse from her fur.