I was keeping an eye on my bipeds who were preparing food in the kitchen, when I heard them say that it was all ready to go in the oven. They decided that one of them could take me for a walk while the other one watched the food. I’m usually enthusiastic when the word “walk” is mentioned, but I didn’t get straight up to go out.
The biped got ready and called me to the door and attached my lead. She called out “goodbye” and we set off. We had only walked a few yards when I started to limp. We stopped and the biped knelt down and I gave her my paw. I had a sorrowful look on my face. She took my paw and looked at it and she felt between my toes. She felt along my leg and put it down.
She said, “I can’t see anything, Clowie. Try a step or two and see if it still hurts.”
I put my paw down and hobbled a few paces. Then I stopped and gave her a mournful look. She knelt down and checked my paw again.
She said, “I don’t know what the problem is, Clowie. We’d better go back.”
We returned slowly. She opened the door and we went in. She detached my lead and I dashed to the kitchen and took up position by the oven to wait until the pheasant was cooked. The biped followed me. She stood in the doorway and looked at me for a moment. I could tell she knew that I had been faking the limp – I’d done it once before, but I’ll tell you about that another time.
She said, and at this point puppies should cover their ears for a moment, “You are a bad dog.”
Yes, that’s what she said. B.A.D. Bad! You can uncover your ears now, puppies. They hardly ever say that to me and it worries me when they do. Then she told me to get out of the kitchen. I hesitated because I really wanted to keep my nose in the vicinity of the pheasant and the other delightful smells. She said, “now” in a stern voice, so I left the kitchen with head and tail held low.
She told me that I was like the boy who cried wolf and that I wouldn’t get help when I needed it. That was obviously a whopping great fib! They’re always worried and rush to help me if there’s something wrong.
They left me on my own for a few minutes. When they called me to go and join them, I leapt up and scurried into the room. They wanted me to do some of my tricks. I did them as well as I could and I pretended not to notice that they were being stingy with the treats! It was worth it because it wasn’t long before I heard the words “good girl” and I became excited and then they made a fuss of me.
I knew I had a full pardon when I was given a tiny piece of pheasant later. I’ve never pretended to be hurt since then, but I have walked as slowly as possible occasionally when they’ve chosen to go the wrong way on a walk!
See you next Wednesday!