Betrayal

I'm sure all my loyal readers will agree with me when I say that I am a very flexible and low maintenance kind of dog.  I don't ask for much, just my fair share:  a 90% share of the bed at night, as many cookies as I can weasel out of my humans, all the toys I can shred, etc.  Well, apparently I'm going to have to make it known that I also require absolute loyalty from my family.  I know, it shouldn't have to be brought up, but obviously, someone (I won't mention names...okay, I won't mention her name right now) is lacking in the unwritten rules department.

But before I begin, allow me to set the scene of my great betrayal.

Last weekend, for the first time in over a month, my family and I drove out to the other house.  At first everything was great and I had a lot of fun.  I said hello to the next door neighbor Darrin who, while currently a cat owner, once owned a dog so he's okay.  Then I barked at the other neighbor's kids (their ball rolled onto my property, what else was I supposed to do?).  Next, I ran around the backyard even though it is still not fenced in (Sister remembered to bring my long leash and even attempted to keep up with me on foot while I ran around like a crazy dog before throwing myself onto the nice green grass and rolling on my back).  And finally, I went to the dog park where I ran around with another dog even though she was way more interested in the game of fetch she was playing with her human than with me (her Dad tried to get me to chase the ball, but every time he threw it and she took off after it, I stayed behind staring up at him with a quizzical "If you wanted the ball so badly why did you throw it all the way over there?" look (humans just don't make any sense)).

But then, everything went bad.

My family had left me home alone.  I know, that was very rude of them and while I was quite annoyed at them  for doing so, the giant Milkbone cookie Pa gave me prior to leaving dampened the blow just long enough for me to get in a good nap.  After what seemed like years, my family's car pulled into the driveway and Ma, Pa, and Sister all climbed out.  Armed with my green tennis ball (known as my Bally-Ball) and a wagging tail, I shuffled over to the door (furry feet on hard wood flooring does not lend itself to good traction) and waited for my family to enter.  When they did, I wagged my tail at Pa and used his leg to reposition my tennis ball in my mouth, I allowed Ma to give me a pet on the side, and then I came face to face with the traitor.

Sister Feeding a Calf

Greedy Goats

With one sniff, I immediately realized that Sister's hands reeked of fur and saliva that did not belong to me.  I was horrified.  I found out seconds later that when Pa, Ma, and Sister were cruising around town they stopped at a nearby farm to check out the animals.  Now, it would be upsetting enough to deal with the knowledge that my family went to a farm without me (my bff Mecki, after all, has been to a farm and got to come face to face with a couple of cows, why can't I?), but what made matters ten times worse was that Sister got to pet and feed a tribe of baby goats, a lamb, and a couple of calves.  Sister even commented that the goats were greedier than me when it came to their bottles and that the slime on the calves' noses put my drool to shame.  Talk about rubbing salt in a wound!

Well, I guess Sister realized how upset I was and set about trying to apologize.  She washed her hands, offered me a cookie (I'm beyond polite so I accepted it even though I was still angry with her), and finally pulled out my long leash and offered to take me outside.  I contemplated holding out until she offered me a T-bone steak or something, but it was obvious that Sister was really trying hard to get on my good side so I gave in and allowed her to take me outside (but I did insist that she rub my tummy while we were out there!).