Who's the Boss

It's no secret that Herbie is a little rocket scientist.  He's always been precocious, and has always been able to clearly communicate when he wants something, or when one of his coworkers has done something bad. 

This evening, as I was trying to get some grading done, Himself(as Herbie's august personage is often referred to by the rest of us) was haranguing me as if he wanted to go outside.  He'd just been. 4 times. But as I live to serve, I walked into kitchen toward the back door, as he slowly walked in front of me, turning his head every few steps to make sure I was following him(he has no faith in his idiot human's ability to comprehend), while the rest of the gang merrily jostled along with me.  He stopped just before getting to the door(it's on the far end of the kitchen) and when I continued to the door and opened it, he stood there looking at me as if I was a total idiot.  Um, OK.  I got the others out/back in and went back to the computer.  Repeat of the yelling and asking me to follow him.  This time I figure out that he is staring pointedly back and forth between me and the cupboard wherein our two-footed office companion keeps the container of T R E A T S with which she bribes the rest of the staff to come back inside. It seems they have conditioned her to give them these tasty morsels EVERY👏SINGLE👏 TIME👏  they come in from outside.  I had not followed this well established protocol, and Herbie was making sure I FOLLOWED the RULE(you may have gathered that Herbie likes things to be done properly).  This of course meant that everybody in the office came running for theirs too. Rest assured I will be speaking to the two-footer about implementing new policy without approval.

Delicacies distributed, I went back to work.  In short order, Herbie was back, staring me down. I managed to pretend I didn't notice him, so he upped the ante and started chirruping softly at me. When that didn't work he finally raised his voice, at which point I gave in and headed back to the kitchen door.  Nope.  This time he was staring at the water bowl, which I had just filled during our last excursion.  It still had plenty of water, but I noticed upon further inspection that were were particles in it from his coworkers having had dirt in their mouths when they drank from it 20 minutes earlier.  Well, one can't expect Himself to drink water with dirt particles(and possibly poop, if I'm honest, we have one that will eat poop if I am not watching closely enough) floating around it in. So, I washed the bowl, refilled with the filtered water(of course they get filtered, I'm not an animal!). His Royal Highness deigned to drink.

I thought for sure I could now get some work done, but nope, there was one more problem. This time he tapped me on the leg with his paw. Lightly at first, but then a bit of a smack.  And then a nudge with the nose, followed by more chirruping.  I look over to see him staring daggers at the Head of Security, who was happily snoozing on the ottoman.  It was after regular work hours you see, so she was well within her rights, one would think.  But one would be wrong. Herbie wanted THAT SPOT. He proceeded to yell in her general direction. Most undignified, but there you have it.  I coaxed her out of that spot(don't tell the others, but I gave her a TREAT)and onto one of the beds that is on the floor, whereupon Herbie took up residence upon the ottoman, and peace was restored in our establishment.  I think he has made it clear that he is, indeed, the Boss of Me(regardless of my having implied otherwise in prior posts).

(he did eventually

take pity on her and allow her and Bratwurst onto the chair behind him)

Troll Under the Bridge(errr, Bed)

This work from home thing is a mixed bag.  I like working in comfy clothes, and not having to worry much about my hair. But I miss my school coworkers; they are so much less likely to bite each other or pee on the floor(sigh).

So, the other day I chose to sleep in a bit(was up late in a buying frenzy on Teachers Pay Teachers) when I was awoken by a Troll under my bed. You may remember the fairy tale about the troll under the bridge? I had one under my bed.  

Allow me to explain: my smaller(and least likely to shed) office mates tend to sleep with me. They come and go as they please, at speed, according to whether or not the two-footed office mate is opening bananas in the kitchen, or giving out T R E A T S(can't say that one out loud!), and I am accustomed to the occasional mass exodus, followed shortly thereafter by a torrent of little bodies hurtling onto the bed and trodding across my slumbering personage as they jockey for position under the covers or on the pillows or on top of my feet. I am accustomed to it, and my sleep is relatively uninterrupted by their comings and goings.

On this ill-fated morning however, things did not go according to our norm. Instead of the pitter-patter of prancy, bananna-fed paws, there was a great hue and cry.  There was scuffling and scrabbling and all sorts of unsavory noise and even(dare I say?) fisticuffs.  I peered over the edge of the mattress to find that Pistol Pete had installed himself under the bed, and from this fortified location was preventing the return of those seeking to rejoin me within the warmth of the covers, much as the storied Troll prevented travelers from crossing his bridge.  As they tried to leap onto the bed, he came hurtling out from under, screaming a battle cry and attempting to bite all and sundry. One or two made it past Pete's battlement, but the majority were prevented, to which they objected strongly, hurling their own insults back at Pete, and showing all their teeth.  Some of them withdrew to the safety of the doorway, from which they continued screaming obscenities, waving fists and rattling shields.  Mel and Smokey independently chose to face down Pete, resulting in the fisticuffs to which I earlier referred. Neither party was able to dissuade Pete from his course, and indeed merely fueled his wrath. Herbie(the eldest member of our establishment) finally had enough and tried to dislodge Pete himself, causing Pete to retreat further under the bed into a space wherein Herbie could not fit. More shaking of fists and hurling of insults were had by all(except the two who were already safely ensconced under my covers and on my pillow), whereupon I was exhorted by Herbie, (he is convinced that I work for him) to DO SOMETHING NOW.  

It took much shaking of treat jars and cajoling, but I was finally able(withOUT getting bitten!) to convince our 13lb troll to come out from under the bed and stop all the ruckus. He was quite pleased with himself.  I will be having words with HR, as I am not at all impressed if this is the result of their team building exercises.