Domestic Squatting: A Personal Tail

For the past FIVE days, my best frienemy Hennie has been staying at my house.

Hennie belongs to Mama’s granddaughter, my niece.
Which, according to Mama’s completely unverified family math, makes ME Hennie’s great aunt.

Honestly, that feels correct.
I do have strong opinions and chronic disappointment in other people’s decisions.

Also, I am older. 

---

Now Hennie is a white chiweenie (half chihuahua and half weenie dog?) and only weighs seven pounds, but she has the confidence of a much larger problem.

And listen…
I love her.

But also?

She is exhausting.

From the minute she arrives, the entire household becomes chaos.
We run.
We wrestle.
We bark at things that are absolutely our business.
We conduct perimeter security like two emotionally unstable park rangers.

At first, it’s fun.

Then eventually Hennie remembers who she is.

A tiny loud girl with absolutely no boundaries.

---

For example:
Hennie insists we all go outside every fourteen minutes.

Urgently.

Like there has been a national emergency involving squirrels.

So out we go.

Then the second Mama opens the door to let us back in, Hennie suddenly becomes “a sunbathing girl.”

She refuses to move.

Just lays there in the blazing heat with her tiny legs stretched out.  Honestly, Hennie is less dog outside and more tiny desert lizard with anxiety.

Meanwhile it is eighty-something degrees.

I am hot.

Hennie is laying in direct sunlight like she’s trying to recharge herself.

---

And another thing…

When we do go back inside she steals MY section of the sectional.

MY section.

My special, reserved section that no human even tries to steal.

But little Hennie has her own rules.

She also tries to steal my food.

Now let me explain something.

Hennie has her OWN bowl.
Her OWN food.
Her OWN tiny portions.

She weighs seven pounds.
She needs approximately ten pieces of kibble and a positive attitude to survive.

But every single time Mama feeds us, Hennie immediately abandons her own bowl and comes trotting over to mine like she’s conducting a quality control inspection.

Then she eats my food while I stand there in complete disbelief.

---

I swear.
One day I am going to put her in her place.

Probably.

Maybe.

Unless she barks first.

And the attitude.

The audacity.

At one point she looked directly at me like:
“Oh. Were you eating this?”

Mama laughed.
Daddy laughed.
I did not laugh. 

I was one inconvenience away from legal representation.

---

By this morning, I had stopped fighting back.
I would just stand there staring at Hennie.

There is apparently a proverb about guests and fish becoming a problem after three days.

By Day Five, I would like to formally support that research.

But then…

Today…

We took Hennie home, back to her own house.

---

Honestly?
The ride home was heavenly.

No barking.
No sectional theft.
No tiny backyard hostage situations.
No food-related betrayals.

Peace.

When we got home…

I walked directly to my section …
turned around three times for emotional reasons…
collapsed dramatically into my rightful place…
and slept like a woman who had finally reclaimed her nation.

But that was hours ago.

And now I miss her.

A little.

Apparently I’d gotten used to the chaos.

💗🐾
Sassy

Great Aunt
Section Owner
Victim of Domestic Squatting

---

If you’ve ever had your favorite seat stolen by a guest, I expect your full support in the comments.

And subscribe, obviously. Somebody around here needs to be on my side. 💗🐾