False Alarm

I blame Pa. It is that simple. I was a perfectly happy, carefree, dog up until Pa came home from work last night. Since then, everything has been going bad.

Yesterday, Pa cleaned my ears. For all my friends without floppy ears, let me first say that there is nothing enjoyable about having your ears cleaned. First, you’re tackled by a family member with a crazy look in his/her eye and cotton balls in his/her hands. Next, cold liquid is poured into your ears which is beyond disturbing. Step three: an ear massage. Now, on face value step three might seem to be an enjoyable activity, but, when it’s purpose is to slosh liquid around in your ear canal, the entire action is less than pleasing. Finally, the scrubbing begins. I was told yesterday that my ears were really gunky, that a shovel would have been a far more appropriate gunk remover than the cotton balls. Luckily, my humans were only joking.

The entire experience took a major toll on me.

I spent the rest of the evening lying like a dead thing in the middle of the living room floor while Ma rubbed my side. I was so exhausted that I didn’t even bother to get up to say hello to Sister when she came home from work (I just lifted my head up and made her come to me to say hello) and I didn’t follower her up to bed later in the evening (too many stairs to climb not to mention I’d then have to actually jump up onto the bed).

Then, when this morning came, I discovered that I was still really tired. Yes, I trolled around the house with Pa when he got up, got my bits and pieces of cold cuts and tomatoes from his and Ma’s sandwiches, and wagged my tail at Sister like the good dog I am, but honestly, my heart wasn’t in it and I was actually kind of looking forward to everyone leaving for work so that I could get a nice nap in.

Let me just say, right off the bat, that it was a spectacular nap. I found a nice warm, sunny spot on the second floor, stretched out, and fell into a very deep and relaxing sleep. I was completely unaware, however, that this wonderful nap would prove to be quite embarrassing for me.

I never heard her car pull up into the driveway. I didn’t hear the gate click open and shut, or the side door open, or her voice calling out my name. The only thing I did hear was the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs to my sleeping spot and they woke me with a start. Down the stairs I ran, barking hysterically with my best watchdog-like bark. To my humiliation, however, I discovered that the intruder I was barking at was actually Sister.

Desperate to cover up my mistake, I scurried into the living room, grabbed my zebra toy, and bunked Sister with it. She laughed, then told me that it was okay; that I did a very good job protecting the house and that I was a very good boy. She then scratched my ears, and, when I rolled over onto my back, she rubbed my belly.

And all this embarrassment could have been avoided if I didn’t have to have my ears cleaned.