A Missed Opportunity

Little Girl

Ralphie

Mecki

Last year, I hosted a lot of friends and strangers at my house--Sister took in Little Girl, a little stray dog, back in June, Ralphie came over for a sleepover in September (though I only got to play with him for a little while), and Mecki spent two days and nights at my house back in December--and I had a ball doing it.  In fact, I had so much fun that, frankly, the last couple of months, completely devoid of four legged visitors, have been a bit of a drag.  But the really depressing part of the entire situation is the fact that my family, especially my Sister, appears to be totally oblivious to how bummed out I've been.  Consider what happened on Saturday:

It started off badly.  Sister was going out to do some errands and, despite the fact that I really wanted to go with her, she tricked me into scurrying out the side door while she slipped out the front.  Wildly annoyed, I rushed over to the fence and prepared myself for the longest and loudest barking session I've ever had, but stopped when I noticed Sister pause outside her open driver's side door and stare intently down the road.  A second later, Sister closed the door, hurried toward the gate, pushed her way past me (without apologizing for trying to leave without me), opened the side door, and asked Ma if she knew anyone on the block who owned a Boston Terrier.  Then, Sister pushed past me again (without an apology) and hurried down the street with Ma, carrying my leash, following close behind her.

Royally miffed, I watched as Ma and Sister converged on a house just shy of the corner.  I gave out one warning bark (you know, to inform them, and the entire neighborhood, of my displeasure) and prepared myself, once again, for that longest and loudest barking session ever.  But before I could begin, I noticed Sister bend down and scoop up a shivering black form.

It was a dog!  Sister was bringing me a friend to play with!  What a good Sister I have!

But then something strange happened:  A woman came running out of the house Sister was standing in front of and Sister--get this--handed the Boston Terrier over to her.  Then, without my new friend, Ma and Sister started walking back to our house.

Well, I went berserk.  I started barking hysterically at Ma and Sister as they walked toward the house and up the driveway.  How could they hand my new friend over to that woman without first letting me meet her (the dog, not the woman)?  I tried consoling myself by jumping on Sister and sniffing her coat all over as soon as she and Ma walked through the gate, but it just wasn't the same.

Later, Sister sat me down and explained to me that the puppy she rescued was a little old lady who was cold and blind and had wandered out of her backyard.  She also said that I likely would have, unintentionally, scared the bejesus out of the pup if Sister had brought her home; that I'm simply too rambunctious for such a little old lady.  How rude!