I’m sitting here laughing, because after observing my behavior today, it is clear to me that the most effective training I have had in my entire life was at the hands of a Drill Sergeant in Basic Training and the last twelve years with Tunch. Tunch had me so trained that I am a very obedient indentured servant. When I get another cat, I bet they will think I am the best human butler on the planet, I am so well trained.
This morning at 6 am or so, I could have sworn Tunch had jumped up on the bed, so I moved over and groggily reached out to pet him before remembering and falling back asleep.
When I eventually woke up, I went to the bathroom, and was shocked when he didn’t come in and try to lick my toes or weave in between my feet, and then said “Oh, yeah.” Went to the kitchen to make coffee a little later, and said I better feed the animals and threw food in his bowl before feeding the dogs, because he would just bitch up a storm and trip me the whole time I was in the kitchen if I didn’t feed him first. The dogs, on the rare occassions I forget to feed them, do nothing- I think Lily may think she has done something wrong. Tunch, on the other hand, my goodness. You haven’t lived until you are sound asleep and wake up with a 20 lb cat on your chest with his head 3 inches from yours eyeballing you as if to say “Hey, jackass. I’m hungry.”
Or how every time I am not typing while at my computer desk, I dangle my left hand down so Tunch can come head butt it and rub against it and I can pet his ears, because if I didn’t he would start weaving between my legs fussing up a storm for attention. As you can see in the picture above, sometimes that was not enough attention. He was a lot of things, but subtle was not one of them.
Or how every time I go on the back porch I take my right flip flop off, because fat boy, no matter what time of day, would come out and lie on his back on the concrete and I would rub his belly with my foot until he bit my big toe to let me know he was done with me and my human affection.
I also keep seeing him out of the corner of my eye. Tunch always used to just stand by the back sliding door when he wanted in, but it was never as simple as opening the door to let him in. If you opened the door and stood there and motioned for him to come in, he would either just sit there and look at you with a “Did you want something, your furless fat bastard?,” or turn around and walk away. So, in order to let him in, EVEN when he wanted in, you had to open the door, walk away, and then he would come in. “Free will, skin sack with treats. I’ll come and go on my terms.” I was just talking on the phone while cooking dinner, thought I saw him, opened the sliding door, and went back to cooking, and 20 seconds later I realized what I was doing.
Or the fact that I could never, ever, ever put anything on the arm of the couch next to the lazyboy. No remotes or phone, because if I did, Tunch would jump up there next to me, knock them all on the floor, then make himself comfortable and conspicuous so I would pet him. And let’s not even go into his collusion with Rosie to destroy my wallets and other stuff.
He was such a good friend and the best master I have ever had.