August 25, 2009

—She With Whom I Abide seemed a little sad this morning.

“You’re causing her all sorts of heartache.”

—Me? What did I do?

“What haven’t you done, or not done? Did you greet her like a loving dog this morning or did you beg shamelessly for food?”

—A little of both?

“Examine your conscience and you’ll see the truth.”

—But I was hungry.

“You’re always hungry.”

—But it’s worse early in the morning.

“When we traveled to Chicago we heard that you slept until 10:00 in the morning without apparently suffering any damage.”

—You heard about that?

“Apparently, you didn’t even try to wake up her son to bug him about feeding you: no whining or pacing or tail thumping; is that true?”

—Maybe, I don’t really remember.

“It was barely a week ago.”

—Dogs live in the present, we don’t spend a lot of time reminiscing.

“That’s obvious.”

—So what should I do about She With Whom I Abide?

“Be available, without all the neediness, and lots less begging.”

—Okay, I’ll try.

“Good.”

—Are you leaving soon?

“Why?”

—Um, no reason, just wondering . . .

“Wondering when you’ll get your next biscuit bribe to head outdoors?”

—Not at all! I was just curious . . .

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