Lesson Learned

I learned a very important life lesson yesterday:  Never sass Ma!

Here's what happened:  Ma took me outside on Sunday to hunt bunnies (I now unfortunately have two rabbits running wild through my backyard), to get out of Sister's way (cooking in the kitchen), and to get out of Pa's way (pushing a giant, noisy, water-filled vacuum-like-machine through the house).  Usually Ma pays very close attention to what I am doing when I'm in the backyard since, apparently, I'm not trustworthy enough to be left outside without supervision, but luck was on my side that day.  The next door neighbor was outside and she and Ma started to talk.  With Ma distracted, I was, essentially, left to my own devices.

Slowly, I meandered toward the forsythia bush in the corner of the yard.  I gave a quick glance back at Ma, who was still distracted, then stealthily slipped under the plant's low-hanging branches.  My hiding place, completely shielded by the overgrowth, was like paradise to me.  It was nice and cool and the dirt felt so good under my paws.  Eventually, my inner dog came out and I started to dig.

Now I don't know if it was the mounds of dirt that I was flinging out behind me or if one of those stupid little bunnies ratted on me (my guess is the latter), but suddenly the forsythia's branches parted and Ma appeared before me hollering "Rigby!  No dig!"

Like the good dog I am, I immediately stopped digging, but just as I was about to vacate my spot, I got an idea.  Ma said I couldn't dig--she never said I couldn't wallow.  Into the hole I jumped, flipped on my back, and started wiggling in the dirt.  Ma started to laugh and called me a little rhinoceros rolling in the mud.  Eventually, however, she grabbed me by the collar and escorted me out from under the forsythia.  "Oh well," I thought, "it was fun while it lasted."

It wasn't until a little while later that Ma got her revenge on me.  She suddenly declared that I needed a bath!  For my avid readers keeping score, that's the second bath I've been forced to have in just over two weeks!  While she hosed me down with the help of Pa, Ma tried to explain to me that I needed a bath due to how quickly I had gotten dirty (both my ears and fur), but I knew she was merely getting back at me for sassing her earlier.

Why Me?

Freshly cleaned and smelling like the icky shampoo my family buys me (lavender), I rushed into the house to rub my face on the rugs in hopes of getting some of the clean smell off of me.  It was then that I discovered the second part of Ma's revenge.  It turns out that that the giant, noisy, water-filled vacuum-like-machine Pa had been pushing through the house earlier in the day was in actuality a rug cleaner.  To my distress, I found that everything smelled just like me and not in a good way.

I searched and searched throughout the house looking for an unclean area to rub against.  Eventually, I found a spot, though it didn't provide me with much room to roll.  Very bitter, I curled up and fell asleep.