Last year I wrote about MiMau's household management program. She likes to perform random audits just to keep it green in the minds of her subordinates.
A few days ago I was upstairs doing laundry, the poodles attached to my legs by invisible cords never longer than fifteen feet and quite often, much shorter lengths. (Quick reverses and turns are dangerous for all of us.) I finished, descended the stairs, heard the be-dum-pe-dump, be-dum-pe-dump of eight poodle feet following me to the first floor.
The sound stopped abruptly; no dogs in sight.
Sometimes one or the other of the boyz loses their down-the-stairs rhythm and needs a little help. But not both at once.
Curious, I went to the foot of the stairs.
Angus and Max were held, huddled against the wall, by The Force of The Feline Eye.
I hurried for the camera.
MiMau must have turned off the forcefield for a moment for Angus, whom she likes better. He bounced on down the stairs before I returned with camera in hand.
Max, more easily intimidated, was still stuck.
I know, although I did not see, that it was MiMau's choice to resolve the impasse and allow Max to go on his way.
Later in the day, secure in her reinforced status, MiMau was back to sashaying around table legs, giving the dogs her come-hither look, enticing them to chase her to the foot of the stairs, which serves as the goal in their game of tag.
She is a kindly ruler.