Mean Sister

I've been feeling pretty restless lately.  I think it is because my foot is still bandaged up and I can't really run around and cause trouble like I'm used to.  As a result, I've had to settle for low level mischievousness--nothing really creative, but still effective at annoying people. Since my last post I've attacked a roll of paper towels, destroyed a plastic bottle (sadly, there was no juice in it), shredded my protective boot, and stole a stapler, a TV remote, a couple of crumpled papers, a brush, a pen, and some tissues (which I picked straight from the box) from Sister's room.  True, I've kept myself busy, but I still feel slightly frustrated that my bandaged foot keeps slowing me down.

That frustration boiled over this morning when Sister took me outside in the backyard to survey the damage from the thunderstorm that blew through the night before.  Overall, there wasn't much to look at.  A couple of small branches had fallen from the tree, nothing I couldn't handle.  Then, from the bushes, Sister pulled out a branch that was at least two times longer than me with lots and lots of branches and leaves to strip off.  Well I couldn't control myself; I charged, jumped up, and grabbed the stick from Sister's hands and dragged it to the other side of the yard where I proceeded to tear it to shreds.  It wasn't until I started eating the stick that Sister decided that it was time to take it away from me.  Not wanting to give up my stick, I jumped up, grabbed the end, and started running (Sister does not like playing keep away, but I think it is a lot of fun).  When Sister finally got the stick away from me I went crazy!  I started running around in the backyard like a possessed dog; keeping low to the ground and trying (sometimes unsuccessfully) not to trip over my bandaged foot.  Sister was concerned that I might hurt myself and screeched that I should stop, but I payed no attention to her.  Instead, I raced down the driveway to the gate then back up the drive way and into the backyard narrowly missing Sister while doing so.  Then I ran around in circles pausing, every once in a while, to have a go at tearing the boot off my foot).   Exasperated, Sister eventually called out the magic words:  "You want a cookie?"  Without hesitation I bolted to the side door.

Then Sister did a very mean thing.  Rather than giving me the cookie as soon as we got into the house, she instead brought it into the living room, sat down, and told me that I wasn't going to get the cookie until I relaxed.  At first I thought, "this isn't going to be too bad....Sister is a pushover...she'll give me the cookie in no time," but while I sat there ears forward and drooling, I started to realize that Sister wasn't kidding around.  For ten minutes we sat staring at each other (okay, I was staring at the place I last saw the cookie and Sister was staring at the television) then, five minutes later and extremely exhausted, I decided to give in.  With a large and dramatic sigh I rolled on my side and put my head down.  Only then, when I had given up all hope of ever eating that cookie, did Sister give it to me.

After I had eaten my cookie and got a drink of water (had to replenish my drool supply), Sister came over to me and asked if I wanted to go for a walk.  "Aah, trying to get back on my good side are we?" I thought.  I wagged my tail eagerly.

Once my leash and collar were put on, Sister and I started down the block in the direction of the park.  When we reached the first intersection I stopped dead in my tracks; Sister had turned left rather than continuing straight ahead.  Now, I am not a big fan of change.  Sister and I have a very specific route to the park that we always use and whenever she tries to stray from it I throw myself down in the middle of the street and show my belly (it's a win win...I make her look silly to passing drivers and occasionally I get a belly rub).  Anyway, when she noticed that I had stopped, she assured me that we were still going to the park, but that we had to go the other way because the Pomeranian on the next block was out and she didn't want me to pull her over to greet it (I can't resist saying "hi" to little dogs).  Then she pointed down the street she wanted us to use.  "Look," she said, "a Chocolate Lab!"  Now, while I can't resist saying "hi" to little dogs, I absolutely love dealing with dogs my size because I can box with them and bunk chests.  Begrudgingly (I didn't want to appear too eager less Sister would think its okay to change our route daily), I turned away from my established route and headed down the street in hopes of meeting the Chocolate Lab.  My hopes, sadly, were dashed a block later when the Lab continued going straight and Sister, looking to return to our usual route, turned right.

What a mean Sister!