RadioActive Chief

I can really relate to some of Rachel's remarks concerning cat-dom over at Blue-eyed Infidel. The Chief's headquarters has three Pembroke Welsh Corgis, and an ex-female calico cat. The Corgi, for the uninitiated was originally a Welsh cowherding dog. In spite of a short stature, they are not an especially small or dainty dog. (A friend once referred to Corgis as "the Toulouse-Lautrecs of the German Shepherd world - not a bad analysis.) They are all dog, and have a large enclosure to rule, and any unwary rabbits or barn cats who venture into their realm become rapidly acquainted with a fine display of hunting-pack intelligent cooperation at work, to their fatal detriment - in spite of the Corgi's short legs!

The dumb cat (I exaggerate not at all!) was adopted into the house to my regret, and the regret of my sinuses, by Mrs. Chief, who rescued it from the world of "barn cats" when as a kitten it got stuck in the opening of a concrete block! Having thereby proved it's limited ability to survive in the wilds of our farm's outbuildings, it entered the welfare state of house-catdom. Having little choice in the matter, the Chief acquiesced, but with the STRICT and UNBREAKABLE rule that the care of the poop-box was NOT something that I would ever do!

Anyway, over the past few years, I have observed cathead enough to definitely relate to Rachel's somewhat jaundiced analysis. I usually don't go wandering off into this sort of "soft" commentary, but somehow this tripped my trigger I guess. Oh well.