Hey, It’s Jet Here.
Houston, we have a little problem. J.J. thinks our felines belong in the toy basket. Seriously, I’ve TRIED to explain they breathe air like we do and prefer to freely saunter, scamper and move through the house at will. Every time either Puffy or Fluffy goes on the move, J.J. chases them in her playful, endearing way.
To their credit, the guys try to avoid contact, however, when she enters the FMZ (feline man zone) all bets are off. Puffy, hisses like a viper and swats at J.J.’s face. Fluffy desperately tries to outrun her and hide. He will hiss only as a last resort.
I’ve tried a few tactics so far to
wrestle educate her in the ways of our home, no luck yet. I’ve had to turn my body sideways to block J.J. from reaching my boy, Fluff, a few times. Surprisingly, I took pity on Puffy once and blocked for him, too. Hey, now that I’m saying this, do you think the Miami Dolphins might have some use for me? Jet, I think the Dolphins could use all the help they can get. Cool.
A few nights back, my human sister, Rachel, had a J.J. sleepover in her room with the door shut. I thought Puffy and Fluffy were going to high paw me in Mom’s bed. We resumed our previous sleeping locations and enjoyed a boys’ sleepover with Mom. Bliss.
Like I said before, she’s a work in progress.
Another great day.