The hooman training is well underway. She feeds all the meals (slowly… may need to crank the hungry moaning up to an 11 for better results) and generally makes herself available for snuggling.
Hate the crate, not sure who gave her that idea. Screaming like I’m being stabbed by a hundred red hot pokers doesn’t seem to open the door, may need to consider screaming like I’m being stabbed by a thousand red hot pokers. Time to scramble into her lap and gaze lovingly and manipulatively into her eyes and then nap furiously until the next meal. If I do it right she won’t be able to reach her coffee from where we are at and she’ll be bleary with sleep deprivation, ready to be molded into the perfect hooman.
Maude out.
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