Sunday, January 31, 2010


Chief is a demon. I am sure of it. He has supernatural powers over me.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can hear you rolling your eyes and shrugging your shoulders, "She's a vet, shouldn't she know better?", but hear me out.

We got back from a swap meet. My broken foot was aching, my back was aching from walking funny from my broken foot, and I had a headache from some yahoo smoking the weed right outside our yard.

I was really ready to go upstairs, lay down with a heating pad and take some very nice pain-relievers.

So the call "All dogs to me!" went out. Which was answered by the three non-demon dogs. Because you see Chief was sun-bathing. And when Chief sun-bathes, Chief decides when he stops and comes to me.

Fine. I'm going to be brave. I'm going to stand up to his tyranny. I won't go over and pick him up. If we get close enough to the stairs, he will realize his Mommy is leaving him and he will come running after me, begging to go upstairs.

Which worked... well, at least he came out of the yard, put his cutest face on, then promptly skittered back in and plopped down in his favorite sun spot.

Now any other dog in the WORLD, I would have stomped over there (okay gimped over there right now) and scolded them and promptly taken them upstairs.

But... but... but he looked so darned cute. I mean what great joys does he have in his life? After all, he's only got three legs. He's only two pounds. What could a few more minutes hurt?

The whole time looking at me with those pathetic brown saucer eyes.

So, I plopped my sore but back down into the uncomfortable patio chair...

Like I said, a Demon. And who knew they liked to sun-bathe?

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