Friday, February 26, 2010

February 26, 2010 - All Hail the (Drama) Queen


If there's any creature on earth that can make you scratch your head and go "Huh?" it's a pug.

I went to the kitchen the other day, intending to get a couple of cookies. Just cheap little generic vanilla sandwich creams.  As I was pulling a couple out of the cookie canister, I dropped one.  Spencer and Orville had followed me to the kitchen and, of course, when the cookie hit the floor and broke in half, they were on it like ducks on a june bug.  No problem - the cookies are vanilla, probably not the healthiest treat for them (or me either, for that matter) but certainly not toxic, so I let them have it.

Then I saw him - Sammie.  He'd come around the corner just in time to see them, eating cookie pieces, and me, standing there with a handful of cookies.  Not having seen the cookie fall, he came to the only conclusion he could.  I'd given them a cookie and hadn't given him any.  The hurt was obvious.  The big, brown eyes that went from happy to heartbroken.  The ears that sagged from the sides of his head nearly down his neck.  The tail that unrolled like a cheap perm in a rainstorm.  His head went down, he slowly turned, and started to trudge, slowly, down the hall.

I followed, calling his name, offering half of one of the cookies I still had in my hand (the side with the cream, no less).  Nothing. He wasn't having it.  I'd call his name, he'd turn, look mournfully over his shoulder at me with those immensely sad eyes, then turn away and resume his slow procession down the hall.  I called again, again he turned, again he turned away. 

He made me follow him all the way to the office, but he wasn't giving in yet.  He dragged into the office, went to Archie's bed, very deliberately sat down with his back to me, would not turn back again, no matter how much I called his name.  The picture of dejection, head down, tail draped over the edge of the bed.  He sighed.  A heart-rending, three-hanky, tear-jerker performance, Oscar-worthy.

I had to walk around the bed, stand in front of him, and stick the cookie under his nose.  The second I did, the eyes lit up, the ears and tail came back to their usual upright and locked position, and he snarfed down the cookie as if it were a fresh steak. 

Little drama queen, that boy.  With his own, totally trained, lady-in-waiting, chasing him about and forcing him to take cookies.

Just another day at the Shady Rest. Y'all take care now.