“Excuse me, do you happen to know the gentleman across the hall?”

M. got a dog.  We’re dog people, now.  Dog people who happen to be owned by a cat.  I have no idea what breed other than mutt.  She’s medium-sized and 14 months old.  Her name is Tallulah.  Yep.  I picked it.  I’m a habitual nicknamer.  I’ve been calling her Tallulah-Hula-Loo.  (Say it!  It’s fun!)  Amelia Bedelia knows I mean business if I use her full name, but she also responds to Emmy, Purrminator, and Sir-Sheds-A-Lot.  M. usually calls her, “Get Down.”

Amelia Bedelia hid from Tallulah until we stopped encouraging her to come out.  Then she approached slowly, tail swishing.  Tallulah closed the distance, sniffed her, then licked her.  Amelia Bedelia smacked her on the nose, held her paw like she had another one loaded, then lay down.  (They cuddled all day on my bed.)  I imagine Amelia Bedelia was thinking, “Bitch, you don’t know me!  Do you need a remedial lesson, or are we good?  Right, then.  Let’s go guard the bed.”

M. took Tallulah to the pet store to get supplies and food.  I remember when I brought Amelia Bedelia there on her way home for the first time.  She was a teeny, tiny, timid, furry mess, but she let me carry her around the store without trying to make a break for it.  She cleaned up wonderfully and traded timidity for sweet and sassiness.  She grew, but she’s still tiny.  I love her so much.

I told him to get me a little shovel because I’m not picking up fresh ones with a mere plastic bag separation.  I know it’s irrational, but I don’t care.  If the aliens are watching, I want them to at least see me using a tool while serving Dog.  (First impressions, and all that.) M. wants to move in (officially.)  He has some beautiful furniture.  I have the electronics, art, and linen covered.  I’m mentally preparing myself for the changes.

He lives in a one-bedroom loft right now.  He has no art at all.  It’s probably partially due to his long working hours.  I guess I haven’t been inside very many homes because I thought everyone had some art.  (He’s a good singer and dancer, so I didn’t let it freak me out too much.)  He likes my art, which works for me.  M. teases me and says my decor style is carefully-arranged eclectic.  In reality, my decor is Geek Chic.  Basically, it’s lots of musical instruments, gadgets, and screens.  Oh, my!

I balance out the action figures with books and art and use a lot of colorful LED lighting.  Everywhere I look, there’s a reason to smile.  I should just call it, “Happy.”  I’m off to wait for the dog to return.  And M.  🙃

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