Violet-watch, Day 2: Violet has ceased lunging at Natasha, who insists on coming downstairs and visiting her cat perch, the back yard, and the house in general despite the presence of an overexcited and unmannerly dog. Violet has progressed so far as to stay seated when Natasha walks by, but that may be sheer exhaustion. I'm sure Natasha will have to continue the training process a few more times, but she's Queen Bee around here and no dog is going to drive her out of her rightful territory. She and Violet now sit mere feet apart without trouble.
I ended up sleeping on the sofa downstairs with the dog, and John slept in the bed upstairs with the cats. Everyone got a decent amount of sleep. Miss Violet worked out very quickly that the sheepskin rug was her bed and slept either on that or right alongside the couch where I could pet her. I think she's adjusting as quickly as she can. She's eating properly, not having any trouble on walks (no pulling, not too much insistence on her own way), and exhibits satisfaction with her house and yard. She does not want to be outside if we're inside and lets us know it, but I think that's just the anxiety. However, we've had to nail up a big piece of plywood to guard our back door from her claws as she scratchs violently to let us know she would like in. She doesn't bark, and she is well-behaved inside, barring that business of wanting to give the cats a thorough sniff and chasing them if they run.
The acid test comes tomorrow when we leave her alone outside from 8am to 6:30pm. Pray for us.
(A moment to note that the church next door, in their usual completely unfathomable way, are singing a song about Jesus set to "God Save the Queen.")
I went off to the bookstore as a much-needed break. To my delight I found two reissued Freya Stark books and discovered a paperback biography of Gertrude Bell. I am now all stocked up on lady Victorian explorers and policy makers of Arabia. Bell was the perpetual bete noir of Stark, who declared she was a prissy thing and was quite obviously jealous of all the publicity and honors she had racked up before Stark ever swanned onto the Middle Eastern scene.
The only chore I have left today is to help John finish putting Dixie's shelter back together and reinstalling it where I'd been keeping my extra pots and gardening supplies. It's hot today, contrary to what the weather forecast said, and although I would really like to be working in the yard I can't stand the combination of exhaustion from my household situation, the blazing sun, and the obnoxiously over-mic'ed performance next door. They've gone on to some kind of Christian 'NSync group who are eliciting squeals from the congregation. I am going to go upstairs and have a lie-down with Keiko who could use a little comfort. Come to that, I could use some myself.
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