That Which Caught My Eye

Staring Intently

What am I staring at so intently?  What am piteously whining at in that high pitched cry that I've been told goes right through my family and that at any decibel seems to drown out whatever program they are watching on television?  Why am I merely seconds away from launching into a frenzied full voice barking session?

Don't worry.  You, my loyal readers, will know shortly.

If you weren't already aware of this, I'm a very observant dog.  I notice when there is a little crumb left from a sandwich in the middle of the tray table (and I bark at it until someone gives it to me).  I notice the big fluffy Christmas bear sitting on the shelf in the living room (and I bark at it until someone takes it away and hides it in another room).  I notice the squirrels using the fence outside my door as a thoroughfare (and I bark at them until someone pulls the shade down).  I notice when the vacuum, stored in a darkened room, seems particularly menacing (and I bark at it until someone moves it from my sight).  I notice the distinctive smell of dog biscuit wafting from someone's pocket (and I bark at them until they give it to me).  And I always notice the ant walking past me while I lounge in the driveway (I snuff him up rather than bark at him).  In short, nothing gets past me (if you ignore all those times my family has managed to sneak into the house and catch me napping on the couch).

So, it was Friday afternoon and Sister was in the living room trying to eat her lunch and watch TV when all of a sudden she heard my patented whimper emanating from the kitchen.  At first, she ignored me.  You see, my family does that a lot; they ignore a fair portion of my whimpers and whines saying that I'm always yapping at something real or, more likely, imaginary (hurtful, I know).  I try not to feel bitter about this treatment, but what can I say?  I'm an excited (and devilishly handsome) dog who lives life to the fullest and wants nothing more than to share each and every one of my experiences with my beloved family.  Is that too much to ask?  Anyway, when Sister didn't respond to my sad little whimper, I kicked it up a notch and let out a sad mournful cry.  Nothing. "Fine," I thought with a sigh (I'm also known for my sighs...I'm quite good at them).  This time, I let out an even louder cry followed by a yip.  This, at least, got Sister's attention.  "I'll let you out in a second, Rigs.  Let me finish my lunch," she called back from the living room.  "Aha!" I thought, "I've almost got her."  You see, I know from experience that as soon as someone acknowledges my actions, I've got them right where I want them--they won't be able to ignore me for much longer.  Taking a deep breath, I let out my longest, loudest whimper followed by a high pitch bark.

That was all it took.  Seconds after barking, Sister left her lunch to investigate what my "beef" was (I'm ashamed to say I did not quickly circle back into the living room to grab whatever was left of Sister's lunch...there's always tomorrow) and, after scanning the room, finally figured it out.

What I Saw

I was staring at a plastic Halloween pumpkin glowing in the afternoon sun.  Sister laughed at me (why is she always laughing?) and told me ignore it; that it wasn't for me and I wasn't allowed to have it even though it kind of looked like a bally-ball.  Life's so unfair sometimes!