I mean… how mean can you get? She was laughing about it too. Had me searching the entire room for it. Asking me where it had gone as if she didn’t know… looking at me all innocent with those big brown eyes… grrrr…. I checked under all the sofa cushions, on the table, in the desk, even on the windowsill…
I suppose it may have had something to do with her wanting to close the back door. It isn’t my fault she gets cold… you humans ought to grow fur.
I rather like sitting on the carpet inside the back door, watching the sunrise and waiting for the pigeons and next door’s cat…. She sits typing away in the big fluffy pink thing, grumbling about heating bills and wrapping a blanket round her knees.
Then … it must have been a whole five minutes later too… she showed me the ball was under my bed! And if that wasn’t bad enough, when I forgave her and took it back for her to play… very kindly, I thought under the circumstances… she hid it again!
I wouldn’t mind. I just don’t know how she does it. I didn’t take my eyes off it for a second… yet it disappeared. She had me running round like a headless chicken searching for it. It was behind her all along…. Then she did it again…
Now, I am far from being a stupid dog. I am highly observant and can read her moods as well as she reads her books. Better, probably, because I love her, so I just know. I can smell chicken or cheese (well, pretty much anything edible really) from miles away, never and not ever, miss an opportunity for a treat, given or… well, let’s be polite and say purloined. I know when she is just going upstairs, or when she is going out. I know when I will get cuddles or when she is working hard. I’m so tuned to her that I even know whether we are going for a walk or going in the car!
I’m not allowed upstairs most of the time, but she lets me guard he in the bathroom, or sit under the easel in the studio… and I know every time…
So how come she can always fool me with the ball?
Maybe because it is so very important to me to know where the ball is at all times? Do you think? Maybe I am so fixated on the ball that I just don’t see what is happening? Tunnel vision…
You fix your eyes on the details and lose sight of the bigger picture.
She’s not too bad sometimes.
When I ate the turkey on Boxing Day, she just laughed and said at least she wouldn’t be stuck with it for days…though she wasn’t too happy about the smoked salmon, I admit…
I shouldn’t worry too much, I suppose.
There is always a ball, even if I can’t see it. Even if she makes me work for it sometimes.
I think that’s because she loves me.