Even before we adopted Sydney, we had made all sorts of pet-related decisions. Some of these stuck and proved to be pretty useful; for example, the unisex name we chose in honor of our honeymoon destination, the Spray Bottle of Justice (which I only need to look at meaningfully in order to get him to stop whatever terrible thing he’s doing), and the Greenies that were crucial in keeping him happy on the way home from the shelter (the slowest GP has ever driven, and likely will ever drive until we’re bringing a baby home for the first time). Others, well, not so much. The scratching post that I believed would be crucial to keeping him from clawing all of our belongings? He could not care any less about it. The super-soft kitty bed? Well…that was pretty unpopular until recently. However, in the mornings when we’re not rushing off to work, he’s been gravitating to it. And this afternoon, as we’re camped out in the living room, shouting at college football?
He’s curled up in his bed, in a quiet corner of the study. I’m pretty sure this is his “leave me the eff alone with the camera, lady” face. Oh well– at least I know that that bed is finally worth it!