A Visitor I'm Not Allowed To Greet

Yesterday was a very exciting and, in a way, very disappointing day.  I had the opportunity to act as the household's Official Welcome Wagon, but ultimately wasn't allowed to perform my duties.  Allow me to explain.

Tuesday started like any other morning:  Ma, Pa, and Sister, after much dawdling, finally left the house for work leaving me to my early-morning-after-breakfast nap (it is said that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and if that is indeed true, then just image how important the after breakfast nap is).  Anyway, I wasn't even halfway through that nap, when, all of a sudden, I was awoken by Sister's car pulling into the driveway and the side door being unlocked.  I ran to the door to greet Sister with my normal exuberance, but found her somewhat distracted--she patted my head once, released me into the backyard, and then quickly ran back into the house, slamming the door behind her.  "What's wrong with Sister?" I thought as I scurried to the side door and voiced my displeasure by barking loudly.  It was then that I noticed Sister walking along the opposite side of the front gate toward her car.  She had snuck out the front door!

Now, it goes without saying that I was highly insulted by Sister's behavior.  How could she trick me?  Why would she trick me?

The Little Brown and White Dog

I watched with annoyed intrigue as Sister opened the back seat door of her car, took hold of a red and white rope, and called out "Okay, let's go."  To my surprise, a small brown and white dog suddenly jumped out of the car and followed behind her as Sister walked back into the house.

I did the only thing I could do given the situation:  I erupted into an excited stream of high and low pitched barks, whines, and whimpers (like I said, I love playing with other dogs and it's not every day that Sister arranges a play date for me).  Just to illustrate how excited I was, Honey's mom (the next door neighbor) actually came over to see if something was wrong.

After what seemed like forever, Sister finally let me back inside the house and I ran from room to room looking for the little brown and white dog.  Eventually I found her; she was standing behind a baby gate in the "Land of No."  I ran up to her and bunked noses with her.  "Be gentle," Sister warned, "she's very scared."

"No problem," I thought, "just let her loose and I'll show her around the house and teach her how to shred toys, hide the tell-tell butt indentation left behind on soft surfaces dogs are not supposed to nap on, and drool."

But Sister didn't let her loose.  Instead, the little dog remained in the "Land of No" while I ran back and forth hoping to sneak into the room when Sister's back was turned.  And when Sister did let the little dog out, she first jockeyed me into the backyard so that she and the dog could sneak out the front.

The Little Brown and White Dog

I was so confused.  Why wasn't I allowed to properly meet our new guest?  Sister explained to me that the little dog was a runaway that Diane (a co-worker friend who always gives me lots of pets when I go visiting the Library) caught yesterday morning.  Sister said that she had volunteered to take care of the dog until her owner came to get her or a more permanent home could be found.  Sister then said that I wasn't allowed to play with the dog because she was a gentle pup who might be frightened by my exuberance and rough play style and Sister didn't know if she was a dog's dog like I am.

I was disappointed and, frankly, a little hurt.  After all, I wasn't allowed to act as the household welcoming committee (what our visiting dog must think of me!), I wasn't going to get the opportunity to play with a new friend, and Sister gave the little dog one of the dozens of tennis balls I had rightfully stolen from the local tennis courts without asking my permission.

Still, I know the value of a good home and I know that Sister, Ma, and Pa want to do what's best for the visiting dog (and me) and if that means I'm not allowed to introduce myself I understand (of course, it doesn't mean I won't try to get a sniff in every once in a while--I am a dog after all).