November 3, 2008

“Just to let you know, She With Whom You Abide is a little hurt by your recent behavior.”

—What do you mean?

“You’re acting as though you’re more my dog than her dog.”

—I am?

“Yes. For instance, two days ago when she was working in the basement and I had left the house, you were nowhere to be found, but as soon as I came back and joined her in the basement, suddenly you were there making a nuisance of yourself in a very cramped space.”

—Oh.

“How do you explain that?”

—I hadn’t really noticed.

“Obviously, but I think her feelings have been a little bruised. After all, she’s housed you and fed you for nearly 10 years, while I’ve been around barely one. And while I occasionally fill your food bowl, she’s the one still responsible for your food and shelter, you know.”

—Oh.

“Yes, oh. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself. This appearance of switching allegiances is not very becoming and does not reflect well on your entire species. Surely, you do not want to be responsible for the saying: Fickle as a dog?”

—No, of course not.

“Well then, get a clue, quit being an ungrateful pooch.”

—I’m not ungrateful.

“Then do a better job of demonstrating that.”

—It’s just that you’re going through difficult times, I spend more time with you these days, and I feel more responsible . . .

“You’re not responsible for my current situation.”

—I know, but in my job as a supportive canine companion, you seem to require my services more.

“Oh, so this is all my fault?”

—Yes, I mean, no . . . it’s no one’s fault . . . I instinctively gravitate toward the most . . . um, needy party . . .

“I see.”

—I don’t mean to insult you or embarrass you, you understand.

“Of course not: I always look forward to having a dog take pity on poor little old me.

—I’ll try to do better from now on. As far as She With Whom I Abide, I mean.

“Okay.”

—I’m glad we had this little chat . . . isn’t it time for a biscuit?

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