Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Not abused, just disappointed
"I smell something cooking on the stove. It smells like eggs, but all I got was this plate of bread crumbs. Nobody loves Lindy."
Of course, everybody loves Lindy, but...
I was, for the first time ever, I'm sure, making egg-in-a-hole for myself for breakfast. I never go to such lengths for breakfast, except for guests and, very rarely, for my husband who has his "usual" every morning when I'm still asleep. I've only the vaguest notion of what that "usual" might be, but that's another story.
Lindy did, eventually, get the last bite of egg and bread. Then she got to lick the remaining bits of egg yolk on my plate, realizing once more that we do love her. No matter how many times we say "It's for your own good" she doesn't understand any more than a very young child would.
On the other hand, just yesterday I got her to "sit, down, stay" — she sat, she lay down, and she stayed there for all of three minutes.