Saturday, September 5, 2015

The Girl Can't Help It

"Go to your place," I say in my sternest possible voice, pointing. The dog has been completely discombobulated by the visit of Katie's mother, her presence in our home an apparent source of irritation so great that the only solution is to bark nearly incessantly.

Once the dog is on her blanket, crouched and looking very repentant, I command her to stay, and put up the gate in the door of our bedroom, effectively locking her in.

But lo and behold, not five minutes later she appears in the living room, a look of incredible guilt on her face, as she looks directly at me and lets out one of her dry, almost coughing barks.

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