Somebody needs to serve Farmer H a giant platter of "It's not all about YOU."
Remember how he berates my sweet, sweet dog Juno? Frames her for egg theft? Casts aspersions her way every chance he gets? The mocking continues.
Juno is quite possessive of her stuff. It no doubt started when she was an abandoned pup, weaned before her time, starved within a silky hair's breadth of her short life by my Mom, who was hoping she would drag her tiny bony carcass across the road to the neighbor's house. Even as a pup tot, Juno would GROWL as she consumed her half-can of moist puppy food on a paper plate on the back porch, a ring of fleabags watching her in wonder, not daring to cross her imaginary force field.
Only last evening, my sweet, sweet Juno growled at Ann during our homecoming lovefest. She usually refrains, but big brutish Ann and her dim eyes plowed into Juno, poking her course-haired jughead toward my hand for a pat. Which I gave to her, of course. I am not an animal. Juno let Ann know in no uncertain terms that I was HER property. In nonverbal language, I believe Juno conveyed, "Step off, bitch!"
Juno went into her doghouse as I went into the house. I had a plate of food scraps that I instructed The Pony to toss to her. "Make sure Juno gets the best parts. Not Ann. Toss one of those bread crusts across the porch for Ann. She'll chase it and stay away." Juno grabbed her treats and took them in her house. We heard her growling for protection. She does this all the time. You can hear her through the kitchen door. She fancies that others are always coming to strong-arm her out of her shelter.
A few minutes later, Farmer H arrived home. He always enters by the kitchen door. Juno's possessive purring was still in evidence. Then I heard the ogre berating my sweet, sweet Juno. "Don't you growl at ME, dog! I'll give you something to growl about!"
I let Farmer H know that such conversation with my pooch was unacceptable. "Don't you growl at MY dog! I'll give you something to growl about!"
We'll see how effective my bark is.
To quote the imitable Elton John, "The *itch is back."
ReplyDelete(Or perhaps she never left?)
Don't mess with my canine children! Toni Louise is a daddy's girl and claims his attention and love. She still accepts love from me. Oscar has always been my dog and will growl and snap at He Who dares to touch him without permission. I admit that I like it.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteWell, Madam, if you're referring to ME...she never left.
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Kathy,
I'm going to catch Ann red-handed with an egg in her black-gummed mouth. Then we'll see who growls at who.
Dogs. Loyal to a fault.