Little Mary Muffet

Mary.  Oh, Mary.  Someone should write a book about Mary and her quirks, like the fact she has to be coerced to drink water from the big self-watering bowl they have because she hates bubbles in her face as she drinks.  But since they won't, I shall tell you a little story about Mary.  I know I've told you that she's more human than canine, but I think I've also shared that she's more feline than canine.  Friends, something's happened to her in the last month.  I've been calling it 'bursting Mary's bubble' as in, the personal space bubble around her.  Previously, if you moved into her dance-space, she would get up and leave the room...usually retreating to her tuffet (we'll get there soon).  But as of late, when we're hanging out at night -- me watching TV with Leo curled up at my feet, J engulfed in a crossword puzzle occasionally looking up to ask me for a 12-letter Psychedelic Furs song -- Mary will march her self up and park it 2 inches in front of my face...and proceed to stare me down.  What does she want? I asked myself.  Then straight out of Free Willy, she leapt up over top of me and curled up behind my head.  As in, curled herself into a teeny ball on the pillow I was leaning against on the couch.  She stayed there, softly sighing behind my head, the rest of the evening.

She had joined the team. Realized that when she retreats to her tuffet that Leo gets all the lovin. Now, she's right there waiting to receive 50% of that love.

As briefly mentioned about the teeny ball she curled herself into, our dogs prefers to be on something soft and poofy.  If you leave a pillow, a sweatshirt or maybe a sock on the floor, our dogs will circle on top of it about 3 times and then curl themselves into the tightest ball you've ever seen.  Mary has a bed in our bedroom that we lovingly call her tuffet, and to her, it's the best place in the whole world.  Well, one night last week, Leo decided to be a trickster and he stole Mary's tuffet.  He stood his ground and she retreated...defeated, and with no place to sleep.  J, having seen this go down, jumped out of bed, and invited her to sleep on the above-pictured wingback chair.  Mary kindly obliged.  And you know what?  When I woke up the next morning, I opened my eyes to see a little black ball still curled up on that chair.  She was a happy girl. And since he got to sleep on her bed and not in his usual post under the bed, Leo was just as pleased with himself.