In a phone call with DrBob before he came home last friday, we established that Lilu has changed since Fufu came, she is no longer as snuggly with us and seems tense and unhappy. We concluded that Lilu has rights too, and she was here first, and if she really can’t get along with Fufu, then we should give Fufu over to the Tierschutzverein. It’s not exactly the pound, they don’t put them to sleep, and they advertise in the papers – a lot more people would see Fufu there than in any signs we could put up, and she’d probably find a home pretty quick.
But then DrBob came home. After two hours, he said “Dammit. I like her.” Lilu seemed to be calming down. The family meeting on Saturday concluded that we should still try to find Fufu’s original people, or a new home, but if we couldn’t, we’d keep her. That was after she ate the condom, but before she upset the garbage, apparently looking for more. Yecch. Also before she tried to poop in Ignatz’s Lego bin. Anyway.
Today the girls are sparring and hissing, and I just caught Lilu with her snout in Fufu’s crunchies. You know, I didn’t hear any crunching. I don’t think she’s eating them: I think she’s just licking every one.
Song du jour of the day: Respect, by Aretha Franklin.