I, Poppy, welcome you to become codependent with me. Drink too much? Go ahead and have another. Gamble? Double down. Are you a sex addict? I will lie at the foot of your bed. I welcome emeshment and triangulation. Just look at my relationship with my mommy. I agree with everything she says and tell her that yes, she deserves all of that cake; in response, she speaks for me and tells me what I am feeling. I have no boundaries.
Except for the baby gates. When Duncan was around, he'd just crash through them. He was like my own personal battering ram, though he only did it for himself and I enjoyed mostly collateral benefits. Now they are here and he isn't. They are at the top of the stairs, the bottom of the stairs, and the entry to the kitchen. Often, when the Hairless Puppy is eating a food that I am not allowed to have, say raisins or grapes, I have to be locked in the kitchen. I lie on the floor and look through the bars at the raisins and think, "What's a little kidney damage when you can have the pleasure of gobbling up a food so fast that you don't even taste or chew it?"
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
I Roll My Eyes at What You Think is Amazing
So you are excited that the Hairless Puppy is about to crawl? What's so amazing about that? Nobody had to lick me constantly for 9 months until I started to walk.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Have Pugs Jumped the Shark?
A few years ago, I Poppy, was walking by Metroboom, the salon and clothing store for men on Platte Street, when in the window I saw a baseball hat with a silhouette of a pug. I began to wonder if we pugs were overexposed.
Overexposure is dangerous for a breed. If we are not careful, we pugs could end up in the same position as poodles, who enjoyed the zenith of their popularity in the 50s. Poodles should have known that once all of those poodle skirts were vintage, so was their image. Even a good PR campaign really wouldn't be able to save them. Really, if you have to make a comeback, you will always have to face the fact that you were once over.
Last year's Superbowl commercial with the pug breaking down the door made me worry more, and this year's Superbowl commercials confirmed my fears: there were no pugs, but there were French Bulldogs. Could Doritos be to pugs what sharks were to Fonzie?
Lately I have been seeing Frenchies everywhere. Where are they all coming from? Who knows? Yet they are winding up on the streets of North Denver, and in advertisements for Target. Now Urban Outfitters, who eight years ago sold a t-shirt with the image of a pug and the phrase "J'aime mon bebe" has no pug paraphernalia. Instead, UO is offering a throw pillow in the shape of a Frenchie.
I am distraught. Frenchies have become the new pugs. Pugs have become the new poodles.
Overexposure is dangerous for a breed. If we are not careful, we pugs could end up in the same position as poodles, who enjoyed the zenith of their popularity in the 50s. Poodles should have known that once all of those poodle skirts were vintage, so was their image. Even a good PR campaign really wouldn't be able to save them. Really, if you have to make a comeback, you will always have to face the fact that you were once over.
Last year's Superbowl commercial with the pug breaking down the door made me worry more, and this year's Superbowl commercials confirmed my fears: there were no pugs, but there were French Bulldogs. Could Doritos be to pugs what sharks were to Fonzie?
Lately I have been seeing Frenchies everywhere. Where are they all coming from? Who knows? Yet they are winding up on the streets of North Denver, and in advertisements for Target. Now Urban Outfitters, who eight years ago sold a t-shirt with the image of a pug and the phrase "J'aime mon bebe" has no pug paraphernalia. Instead, UO is offering a throw pillow in the shape of a Frenchie.
I am distraught. Frenchies have become the new pugs. Pugs have become the new poodles.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
New Puppy
I returned from a stay at my summer home in Littleton, O she of the lush lawns, heavy shade, and doting grandparents,
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Last to Know
So much has changed in this house in the last six months. Duncan disappeared in January, leaving me without a companion. He just left with the Big Guy and didn't come back with the Big Guy. His collar is hanging from the lamp on the Big Guy's desk. the Big Guy showed it to me, and I was excited, because even though it has been washed it still smells like Duncan. I looked for Duncan for a minute, but he wasn't there.
I used to hang out with Duncan, but now I follow Mommy around a lot more. Some days I won't let her out of my sight.
Mommy smells different and does not let me step on her tummy any more. Her belly is big so it is harder to sit on her lap, so I wind up sitting next to her on the big chair or on the sofa with my chin on her knee. I don't have much of a chin, so its position is precarious and I wind up moving my chin anyway.
Shortly after Duncan left, the Big Guy demolished the upstairs bathroom, including the old drywall and the lath and plaster that it hid, opening up the house to the attic beyond. It would have been so exciting to explore, but I was never allowed in there because I am small, curious, and do not wear shoes.
Lately, the house has been full of workmen who come in and out and up and down the stairs all day long and I wonder what they are doing up there, but I am not allowed to follow them, because I am curious and like to get really close to the action so I can see and smell exactly what is going on. So, I am a good girl and I stay downstairs on the sofa and bark at the people as they come in and go out.
I, Poppy, am usually a very adaptable pug, but lately I have been visibly aware of feeling displaced. The upstairs smells like new paint, so I only like to stay there for a few minutes. Mommmy and the Big Guy are now sleeping in the front room, and although my bed is in there, too, it is much farther away from the big bed than it is when we sleep in the other room because the new room is small, and Mommy does not want to step on me when she wakes up in the morning. I have had to be crated twice in the last week while Mommy runs errands and the workmen go in and out of the house.
Even my food bowl was broken. Baby Cousin did it. Now I eat out of bowls from the cupboard, like some sort of vagabond dog.
All I can do now is lie here on this rug in my winter position -- not my spread-eagled, superpug summer stance, with my hind legs out behind me and my forelegs in front as if I am flying through the air. No. Now my hind legs are under me, sheltered, and my chin is resting on my forepaws. I look up at you with wide eyes, as if asking when all of the chaos will end.
I used to hang out with Duncan, but now I follow Mommy around a lot more. Some days I won't let her out of my sight.
Mommy smells different and does not let me step on her tummy any more. Her belly is big so it is harder to sit on her lap, so I wind up sitting next to her on the big chair or on the sofa with my chin on her knee. I don't have much of a chin, so its position is precarious and I wind up moving my chin anyway.
Shortly after Duncan left, the Big Guy demolished the upstairs bathroom, including the old drywall and the lath and plaster that it hid, opening up the house to the attic beyond. It would have been so exciting to explore, but I was never allowed in there because I am small, curious, and do not wear shoes.
Lately, the house has been full of workmen who come in and out and up and down the stairs all day long and I wonder what they are doing up there, but I am not allowed to follow them, because I am curious and like to get really close to the action so I can see and smell exactly what is going on. So, I am a good girl and I stay downstairs on the sofa and bark at the people as they come in and go out.
I, Poppy, am usually a very adaptable pug, but lately I have been visibly aware of feeling displaced. The upstairs smells like new paint, so I only like to stay there for a few minutes. Mommmy and the Big Guy are now sleeping in the front room, and although my bed is in there, too, it is much farther away from the big bed than it is when we sleep in the other room because the new room is small, and Mommy does not want to step on me when she wakes up in the morning. I have had to be crated twice in the last week while Mommy runs errands and the workmen go in and out of the house.
Even my food bowl was broken. Baby Cousin did it. Now I eat out of bowls from the cupboard, like some sort of vagabond dog.
All I can do now is lie here on this rug in my winter position -- not my spread-eagled, superpug summer stance, with my hind legs out behind me and my forelegs in front as if I am flying through the air. No. Now my hind legs are under me, sheltered, and my chin is resting on my forepaws. I look up at you with wide eyes, as if asking when all of the chaos will end.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Birthday
Today is my eighth birthday. I got an egg for breakfast.
I have no plans for self-improvement in the upcoming year. However, I do have some recommendations for the improvement of my care and feeding. Lately, despite Duncan's strange disappearance and my new status as only dog, I do not feel as spoiled as I need to feel. The recommendations follow:
More eggs
More walks
More treats
More and quicker responses to my demands
Fewer children playing at the school by our house. They are intruders in my territory.
A return of the security door on the front of our house. Now the mail carrier cannot reach through the door to give me a treat.
Better access to the contractors who are working on the bathroom. I need to get very close to them to see exactly what they are working on.
A return to composting and a companion who will tip the composter over.
The freedom to step on Mommy's tummy again.
As my fans will see, these are not new grievances. They represent a long train of abuses and usurpations pursuing invariably the same object, namely my health, happiness, security, and discipline. As my fans know, I, Poppy, do not care about health, happiness, security, and discipline. Instead, I care about instant gratification. And I have not suffered in patience. The course of canine events has, however, brought me to the beginning of my ninth year, and as a now older and more distinguished pug, I feel that it is my right and privilege to, again, voice my desire for greater spoilage.
I have no plans for self-improvement in the upcoming year. However, I do have some recommendations for the improvement of my care and feeding. Lately, despite Duncan's strange disappearance and my new status as only dog, I do not feel as spoiled as I need to feel. The recommendations follow:
More eggs
More walks
More treats
More and quicker responses to my demands
Fewer children playing at the school by our house. They are intruders in my territory.
A return of the security door on the front of our house. Now the mail carrier cannot reach through the door to give me a treat.
Better access to the contractors who are working on the bathroom. I need to get very close to them to see exactly what they are working on.
A return to composting and a companion who will tip the composter over.
The freedom to step on Mommy's tummy again.
As my fans will see, these are not new grievances. They represent a long train of abuses and usurpations pursuing invariably the same object, namely my health, happiness, security, and discipline. As my fans know, I, Poppy, do not care about health, happiness, security, and discipline. Instead, I care about instant gratification. And I have not suffered in patience. The course of canine events has, however, brought me to the beginning of my ninth year, and as a now older and more distinguished pug, I feel that it is my right and privilege to, again, voice my desire for greater spoilage.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Monday, August 9, 2010
Coda
Penelope: Do you think that Roomba dreams? What would he dream of?
Duncan: Electric sheep?
Roomba: You better get out of the way tomorrow, Big Dog.
Duncan: Electric sheep?
Roomba: You better get out of the way tomorrow, Big Dog.
Penelope, Duncan, and Baby Cousin See "Inception"
Baby Cousin: I don’t get it.
Penelope: I don’t either. I got lost after they went for the ride in the car.
Duncan: It’s about memories. And dreams.
Baby Cousin: What are those?
Duncan: Well, memories are like, when you remember things. Like I remember where the Lady Who Dotes keeps the leashes. And I remember what time of day she takes us for walks.
Baby Cousin: I’m still lost.
Penelope: Wait, I think I’m getting it. So, it’s like when we go for a ride in the car and I know that we’re going to Grandma/Grandpa’s house because the car turns at a certain place and it’s the same place that we have always turned to go to Grandma/Grandpa’s.
Duncan: Yes.
Baby Cousin: Who are Grandma and Grandpa?
Penelope: You see them all the time.
Baby Cousin: Do they feed me?
Penelope: I don’t know about you, but they feed me a lot.
Duncan: So you might not have memories yet, but you have dreams, Baby Cousin. I’ve seen you. Your eyes move rapidly and you make little sucking motions with your mouth. You dream about eating, just like Little Dog.
Baby Cousin: Talk some sense to me. Just because I’m six weeks old doesn’t mean that I’m going to take condescension. I’m fierce, you know. Talk down to me and I’ll start to cry and then you’ll be sorry.
Duncan: Dreams come when you fall asleep. It’s like when you fall asleep and you go to that other world -- that pretend world -- you think you are doing things, but you are not. And then you wake up.
Baby Cousin: Another world? Sleep? Sleep and wake are two different states?
Penelope: Really?
Duncan: Yes. It’s like TV.
Penelope: TVs not real? Then why are all those dogs on TV? Could have fooled me.
Duncan: I don’t know if you have noticed how easily the humans trick you into taking a bath. It isn’t very hard.
Penelope: So, you are saying that sometimes when I’m eating a meal, I may only be eating in my mind?
Duncan: Yes.
Penelope: So I’m being gypped out of a meal? So are you getting a meal and I’m not, Big Dog? Who’s getting that food if it isn’t me?
Baby Cousin: I really fail to see the difference between “waking” and “sleeping,” or “real” and “pretend.” I just recently started to see things right-side up. And what I do see is a big blob. I don’t really get the law of inertia, so I have to be strapped into everything.
Penelope: Inertia’s a tough one.
Baby Cousin: I know that Little Dog is licking my feet right now, but I really don’t know that I have feet. If you showed me my feet, I wouldn’t recognize them as my own. Stop it Little Dog. Don’t you see me turning red? I’m about to cry!
Penelope: Big Dog and I can’t perceive the color red.
Duncan: How do you know what I can see and what I can’t see?
Penelope: Because you are a dog, just like me. We can’t see red.
Duncan: But how do you know I can’t? Have you seen the world through my eyes?
Penelope: No. Don’t be silly. You can’t see red, can you?
Duncan: No. But that’s beside the point. I’m saying that you can’t know what I see just like I can’t know what you see. We might see different things entirely.
Penelope: So then how do you know that I dream? I see you moving and hear you barking when you sleep. Maybe that’s all you are doing. Maybe there’s no narrative going on in your mind. Maybe since I have dreams I’m just projecting my ability to dream on to you. Maybe you’re not even real. Maybe only I am real.
Duncan: I truly think that you might believe that. You often use me as a step stool.
Penelope: So in just the last few minutes you have told me that dreams and TV are not real. Are memories real?
Duncan: That’s what the movie was about.
Penelope: So how do I know what is real? Obviously I can’t trust my senses because the dogs that I see and hear on TV and in dreams do not exist.
Duncan: You think, therefore you are?
Penelope: Big Dog, remember to whom you are talking.
Duncan: Okay. So thinking is out. What about instinct?
Penelope: I get hungry, therefore I am?
Baby Cousin: What about me? I don’t think, I don’t remember, and I don’t really have my senses wired straight. Do I not exist? I’m going to start crying now. I’ll show existence who exists! starts to cry
Penelope: She’s crying! I’ll bark to tell somebody that she’s crying! starts to bark
Duncan: Little Dog, you are barking? Do you hear some one at the door? runs to the door and starts to bark
Penelope: I don’t either. I got lost after they went for the ride in the car.
Duncan: It’s about memories. And dreams.
Baby Cousin: What are those?
Duncan: Well, memories are like, when you remember things. Like I remember where the Lady Who Dotes keeps the leashes. And I remember what time of day she takes us for walks.
Baby Cousin: I’m still lost.
Penelope: Wait, I think I’m getting it. So, it’s like when we go for a ride in the car and I know that we’re going to Grandma/Grandpa’s house because the car turns at a certain place and it’s the same place that we have always turned to go to Grandma/Grandpa’s.
Duncan: Yes.
Baby Cousin: Who are Grandma and Grandpa?
Penelope: You see them all the time.
Baby Cousin: Do they feed me?
Penelope: I don’t know about you, but they feed me a lot.
Duncan: So you might not have memories yet, but you have dreams, Baby Cousin. I’ve seen you. Your eyes move rapidly and you make little sucking motions with your mouth. You dream about eating, just like Little Dog.
Baby Cousin: Talk some sense to me. Just because I’m six weeks old doesn’t mean that I’m going to take condescension. I’m fierce, you know. Talk down to me and I’ll start to cry and then you’ll be sorry.
Duncan: Dreams come when you fall asleep. It’s like when you fall asleep and you go to that other world -- that pretend world -- you think you are doing things, but you are not. And then you wake up.
Baby Cousin: Another world? Sleep? Sleep and wake are two different states?
Penelope: Really?
Duncan: Yes. It’s like TV.
Penelope: TVs not real? Then why are all those dogs on TV? Could have fooled me.
Duncan: I don’t know if you have noticed how easily the humans trick you into taking a bath. It isn’t very hard.
Penelope: So, you are saying that sometimes when I’m eating a meal, I may only be eating in my mind?
Duncan: Yes.
Penelope: So I’m being gypped out of a meal? So are you getting a meal and I’m not, Big Dog? Who’s getting that food if it isn’t me?
Baby Cousin: I really fail to see the difference between “waking” and “sleeping,” or “real” and “pretend.” I just recently started to see things right-side up. And what I do see is a big blob. I don’t really get the law of inertia, so I have to be strapped into everything.
Penelope: Inertia’s a tough one.
Baby Cousin: I know that Little Dog is licking my feet right now, but I really don’t know that I have feet. If you showed me my feet, I wouldn’t recognize them as my own. Stop it Little Dog. Don’t you see me turning red? I’m about to cry!
Penelope: Big Dog and I can’t perceive the color red.
Duncan: How do you know what I can see and what I can’t see?
Penelope: Because you are a dog, just like me. We can’t see red.
Duncan: But how do you know I can’t? Have you seen the world through my eyes?
Penelope: No. Don’t be silly. You can’t see red, can you?
Duncan: No. But that’s beside the point. I’m saying that you can’t know what I see just like I can’t know what you see. We might see different things entirely.
Penelope: So then how do you know that I dream? I see you moving and hear you barking when you sleep. Maybe that’s all you are doing. Maybe there’s no narrative going on in your mind. Maybe since I have dreams I’m just projecting my ability to dream on to you. Maybe you’re not even real. Maybe only I am real.
Duncan: I truly think that you might believe that. You often use me as a step stool.
Penelope: So in just the last few minutes you have told me that dreams and TV are not real. Are memories real?
Duncan: That’s what the movie was about.
Penelope: So how do I know what is real? Obviously I can’t trust my senses because the dogs that I see and hear on TV and in dreams do not exist.
Duncan: You think, therefore you are?
Penelope: Big Dog, remember to whom you are talking.
Duncan: Okay. So thinking is out. What about instinct?
Penelope: I get hungry, therefore I am?
Baby Cousin: What about me? I don’t think, I don’t remember, and I don’t really have my senses wired straight. Do I not exist? I’m going to start crying now. I’ll show existence who exists! starts to cry
Penelope: She’s crying! I’ll bark to tell somebody that she’s crying! starts to bark
Duncan: Little Dog, you are barking? Do you hear some one at the door? runs to the door and starts to bark
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Two Fierce Creatures Meet for the First Time
Setting: The front room. A summer day.
Baby Cousin: I was having a nice nap in my car seat. The motion of the car is pleasing. Now I am here, and they are passing me around. Maybe here in Dad's lap I can go back to sleep. Stop licking my feet!
Penelope: I can't help it! You are such an exciting new thing! I have always wanted to see one of you without your wheels. You smell like warm milk. How curious you are!
Baby Cousin: What's Dad doing? I'm being lowered down to the floor. Oh! Stop licking my face! I don't like that! Now I'm going to start crying to show you how fierce I am! Go away! I am a fierce creature! Go away!
Penelope: No way. I haven't been this excited since a cicada flew into the house and I followed it around, barking at it in amazement. I have never seen anything like you.
Baby Cousin: You can lick my feet. That's better than when you lick my face.
Penelope: (pointing at Baby Cousin) O brave new world that has such creatures in it! I am pointing at you, see? You can tell that I'm pointing because my head is down, my forepaw is lifted, and I am in deep concentration. I can't get my tail to unwind, though.
Baby Cousin: I was having a nice nap in my car seat. The motion of the car is pleasing. Now I am here, and they are passing me around. Maybe here in Dad's lap I can go back to sleep. Stop licking my feet!
Penelope: I can't help it! You are such an exciting new thing! I have always wanted to see one of you without your wheels. You smell like warm milk. How curious you are!
Baby Cousin: What's Dad doing? I'm being lowered down to the floor. Oh! Stop licking my face! I don't like that! Now I'm going to start crying to show you how fierce I am! Go away! I am a fierce creature! Go away!
Penelope: No way. I haven't been this excited since a cicada flew into the house and I followed it around, barking at it in amazement. I have never seen anything like you.
Baby Cousin: You can lick my feet. That's better than when you lick my face.
Penelope: (pointing at Baby Cousin) O brave new world that has such creatures in it! I am pointing at you, see? You can tell that I'm pointing because my head is down, my forepaw is lifted, and I am in deep concentration. I can't get my tail to unwind, though.
Stray Kitty Update
Stray Kitty is now called Mimi La Boheme around our house. She is still mad at Mommy for taking her to the vet and has not been seen since that day. However, she makes her presence known by stealing into the Garden Room at night and eating prodigious amounts of the cat food that Mommy leaves out for her. There is no way that she is still a slim, seven-pound Stray Kitty.
My fans have been understandably concerned that Mimi might have little kitties of her own one day. Do not fear. Planned Pethood was careful to check that Mimi had been spayed. She was obviously some body's pet before she adopted her bohemian ways -- her warm feelings for humans, her good manners, and her reliance on cat food is sure proof.
My fans have been understandably concerned that Mimi might have little kitties of her own one day. Do not fear. Planned Pethood was careful to check that Mimi had been spayed. She was obviously some body's pet before she adopted her bohemian ways -- her warm feelings for humans, her good manners, and her reliance on cat food is sure proof.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Free Will
Setting: The front room, a summer day.
Roomba: Help! I am stuck under the sofa again!
Penelope: Every day you get stuck under there. Why don’t you just avoid it and then you can finish your job without having to cry for help?
Roomba: But I’m programmed to go this way. Everything I do is on a program. You know that yourself. When you see me coming, you know that I don’t slow down or try to go around you, so you move out of my way.
Duncan: Not always. Sometimes when I am in a deep sleep you bump into me and then you turn away.
Penelope: This is true. When Mommy wants you to go in a different direction, sometimes she will stand in your way so that when you run into her toes you will turn.
Roomba: But that’s also part of my program. I was made to sweep the floors no matter what obstacle was put in my way. My tenacity has no parallel. My makers just didn’t factor in the problem of the low-sitting sleeper sofa.
Stray Kitty: Looking in from the window. Poor Roomba! Poor dogs in the house! You don’t have the freedom that I have! You are slaves, and I am not.
Duncan: That’s not entirely true, Stray Kitty. The Lady Who Dotes bought Little Dog with money when she was a puppy, so she is a slave. But I, like you, was a stray. I ran away from the first Guy Who Fed Me and found this new one. I liked the new one better, so I stayed. I did it by choice.
Penelope: I stay by choice! I am charming and all the people love me so I could go with whomever I choose! Big Dog, sometimes you treat me like I’m such a puppy.
Roomba: You are all mistaken. Don’t you know that you have programs just like I have? You are carbon-based so programs are encoded in your DNA, while mine is on my silicon microchip. But they still function the same way.
Stray Kitty: I am not “programmed,” Roomba.
Roomba: But you are! Don’t you get hungry? Don’t you get sleepy? Don’t you want affection? Don’t all of these things happen like clockwork? When you see a mouse, you chase it, just like when Duncan sees you he chases you.
Duncan: I can’t help it.
Stray Kitty: But you don’t follow the exact direction that you are programmed to, Roomba. Like the dogs said, you make allowances for obstacles, at least. It’s just like when I am in a yard with a fence, I climb the fence and can move out on the open road.
Penelope: I would like to be able to do that, but I do not climb like you, Stray Kitty. Dogs don’t do that.
Roomba: Dogs are not programmed to do that. Neither are they constructed to do that. Just like me -- I am not constructed to handle word processing. I have no keyboard. The computer up there on the desk has no vacuum. It is not constructed to clean the floors.
Stray Kitty: You say all of this, Roomba, from your position stuck under the sofa. For my part, I am going to demonstrate my freedom by saying goodbye and finding a sunbeam to lie in. She starts to leave.
Roomba: At least I know where my next meal comes from, Stray Kitty. I’ll get it when I go back to my power source in the kitchen.
Stray Kitty: No, I don’t know where the next mouse is, or if a neighbor will leave food for me on the porch. This is true. It is also true that I don’t know what other cats I’ll meet tonight, and if they will want to fight or how I will make out if we do fight. But my life has a flavor that none of yours has. I’m like that girl in the opera. I live la vie boheme. You Roomba, dogs, are slaves to bourgeois entitlement. Here in your comfortable home, you limit yourselves.
Duncan: I have always wanted to light out for the territory ahead. I did that once and I came upon the Guy Who Feeds Me. I did it another time and after three days the Guy Who Feeds Me found me. I did it a third time and got hit by a car.
Penelope: I am a princess.
Roomba: I am still stuck.
Stray Kitty: Au revoir! She runs away.
Duncan: Jumping at the window screen. Oh! I always do that when she runs!
Roomba: Help! I am stuck under the sofa again!
Penelope: Every day you get stuck under there. Why don’t you just avoid it and then you can finish your job without having to cry for help?
Roomba: But I’m programmed to go this way. Everything I do is on a program. You know that yourself. When you see me coming, you know that I don’t slow down or try to go around you, so you move out of my way.
Duncan: Not always. Sometimes when I am in a deep sleep you bump into me and then you turn away.
Penelope: This is true. When Mommy wants you to go in a different direction, sometimes she will stand in your way so that when you run into her toes you will turn.
Roomba: But that’s also part of my program. I was made to sweep the floors no matter what obstacle was put in my way. My tenacity has no parallel. My makers just didn’t factor in the problem of the low-sitting sleeper sofa.
Stray Kitty: Looking in from the window. Poor Roomba! Poor dogs in the house! You don’t have the freedom that I have! You are slaves, and I am not.
Duncan: That’s not entirely true, Stray Kitty. The Lady Who Dotes bought Little Dog with money when she was a puppy, so she is a slave. But I, like you, was a stray. I ran away from the first Guy Who Fed Me and found this new one. I liked the new one better, so I stayed. I did it by choice.
Penelope: I stay by choice! I am charming and all the people love me so I could go with whomever I choose! Big Dog, sometimes you treat me like I’m such a puppy.
Roomba: You are all mistaken. Don’t you know that you have programs just like I have? You are carbon-based so programs are encoded in your DNA, while mine is on my silicon microchip. But they still function the same way.
Stray Kitty: I am not “programmed,” Roomba.
Roomba: But you are! Don’t you get hungry? Don’t you get sleepy? Don’t you want affection? Don’t all of these things happen like clockwork? When you see a mouse, you chase it, just like when Duncan sees you he chases you.
Duncan: I can’t help it.
Stray Kitty: But you don’t follow the exact direction that you are programmed to, Roomba. Like the dogs said, you make allowances for obstacles, at least. It’s just like when I am in a yard with a fence, I climb the fence and can move out on the open road.
Penelope: I would like to be able to do that, but I do not climb like you, Stray Kitty. Dogs don’t do that.
Roomba: Dogs are not programmed to do that. Neither are they constructed to do that. Just like me -- I am not constructed to handle word processing. I have no keyboard. The computer up there on the desk has no vacuum. It is not constructed to clean the floors.
Stray Kitty: You say all of this, Roomba, from your position stuck under the sofa. For my part, I am going to demonstrate my freedom by saying goodbye and finding a sunbeam to lie in. She starts to leave.
Roomba: At least I know where my next meal comes from, Stray Kitty. I’ll get it when I go back to my power source in the kitchen.
Stray Kitty: No, I don’t know where the next mouse is, or if a neighbor will leave food for me on the porch. This is true. It is also true that I don’t know what other cats I’ll meet tonight, and if they will want to fight or how I will make out if we do fight. But my life has a flavor that none of yours has. I’m like that girl in the opera. I live la vie boheme. You Roomba, dogs, are slaves to bourgeois entitlement. Here in your comfortable home, you limit yourselves.
Duncan: I have always wanted to light out for the territory ahead. I did that once and I came upon the Guy Who Feeds Me. I did it another time and after three days the Guy Who Feeds Me found me. I did it a third time and got hit by a car.
Penelope: I am a princess.
Roomba: I am still stuck.
Stray Kitty: Au revoir! She runs away.
Duncan: Jumping at the window screen. Oh! I always do that when she runs!
Friday, July 30, 2010
Stray Kitty
There is a stray kitty who lives in our yard. Her name is Stray Kitty. Sometimes she lives in the shed, sometimes she lives in the Virginia Creeper, sometimes she lives between the fence and the garage.
Stray Kitty is a little calico with one yellow eye that sees and one pink eye that has been horribly scratched. She comes to our garden room to drink from our water bowl.
The other day she sat on the rug in the garden room, looked up at the back door, and started mewling. She ran away when Mommy took out the recycling.
She doesn't like it when Duncan and I are in the yard. That is when she hides. Duncan likes to chase her and I would like to play with her.
She wants to make friends with Mommy, though. Stray Kitty was in the garden room again this morning. Later, when Duncan and I were in the house and Mommy was gardening, Stray Kitty followed Mommy through the yard. Then, when Mommy was pulling weeds, Stray Kitty walked up to her and started brushing up against her and purring. Apparently, she was a very sweet kitty, because Mommy came in the house and said, "Dogs, we have a responsibility."
Now, the only responsibility I have is to chase things out of the yard, so I was jealous of the milk that Mommy poured into a bowl and brought out to Stray Kitty. Mommy never pours milk into a bowl for me. Neither does Mommy open up a can of tuna and present it to me to eat. But she did both for Stray Kitty, who ate right out of her hand.
I wasn't all that jealous of the crate, though. I didn't begrudge Stray Kitty the time she spent locked up, even if it was for a ride in the car. Stray Kitty was not as devious as I am when Mommy tries to crate me. She didn't even put up a fight, or show her claws. She only uttered a few meows of protest.
She had clearly been in a crate before. She had also clearly been for a ride in a car and for an examination at the vet before, because she didn't protest one bit. Instead, she played and purred and was on her best behavior. At least that is what Mommy said, because I didn't get to go.
When she had been checked over and given her shots and after Mommy made an appointment for an operation to have the bad eye removed, she came home. Mommy let her out of her crate in the back yard and she disappeared into one of her hiding places.
We have not seen her all day. But Mommy and the Big Guy are sure she'll be back for breakfast. As much as she likes to be free, Stray Kitty is not a self-sufficient Kitty.
Do not worry, fans. I, Poppy, have not been demoted to second fiddle to a kitty. The Big Guy is allergic to cats and as he would like to breathe, Stray Kitty can't become part of the family.
Mommy will catch (if that is what you can call it) her again on Tuesday and take her for her operation. Then Stray Kitty will have to stay in our garden room until she's done with her antibiotics. Meanwhile, the kind vets at Planned Pethood Plus will be helping Mommy and the Big Guy find Stray Kitty a home.
Stray Kitty is a little calico with one yellow eye that sees and one pink eye that has been horribly scratched. She comes to our garden room to drink from our water bowl.
The other day she sat on the rug in the garden room, looked up at the back door, and started mewling. She ran away when Mommy took out the recycling.
She doesn't like it when Duncan and I are in the yard. That is when she hides. Duncan likes to chase her and I would like to play with her.
She wants to make friends with Mommy, though. Stray Kitty was in the garden room again this morning. Later, when Duncan and I were in the house and Mommy was gardening, Stray Kitty followed Mommy through the yard. Then, when Mommy was pulling weeds, Stray Kitty walked up to her and started brushing up against her and purring. Apparently, she was a very sweet kitty, because Mommy came in the house and said, "Dogs, we have a responsibility."
Now, the only responsibility I have is to chase things out of the yard, so I was jealous of the milk that Mommy poured into a bowl and brought out to Stray Kitty. Mommy never pours milk into a bowl for me. Neither does Mommy open up a can of tuna and present it to me to eat. But she did both for Stray Kitty, who ate right out of her hand.
I wasn't all that jealous of the crate, though. I didn't begrudge Stray Kitty the time she spent locked up, even if it was for a ride in the car. Stray Kitty was not as devious as I am when Mommy tries to crate me. She didn't even put up a fight, or show her claws. She only uttered a few meows of protest.
She had clearly been in a crate before. She had also clearly been for a ride in a car and for an examination at the vet before, because she didn't protest one bit. Instead, she played and purred and was on her best behavior. At least that is what Mommy said, because I didn't get to go.
When she had been checked over and given her shots and after Mommy made an appointment for an operation to have the bad eye removed, she came home. Mommy let her out of her crate in the back yard and she disappeared into one of her hiding places.
We have not seen her all day. But Mommy and the Big Guy are sure she'll be back for breakfast. As much as she likes to be free, Stray Kitty is not a self-sufficient Kitty.
Do not worry, fans. I, Poppy, have not been demoted to second fiddle to a kitty. The Big Guy is allergic to cats and as he would like to breathe, Stray Kitty can't become part of the family.
Mommy will catch (if that is what you can call it) her again on Tuesday and take her for her operation. Then Stray Kitty will have to stay in our garden room until she's done with her antibiotics. Meanwhile, the kind vets at Planned Pethood Plus will be helping Mommy and the Big Guy find Stray Kitty a home.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Socratic Dialogue: Courage
Setting: The front room. A summer day.
Penelope: Sees another dog walking down the street in front of her house. Penelope barks loudly.>Oh! There is that dog who walks by our house again! He is in our territory! I am barking at him as loudly as I can! Duncan! Duncan! Go get him!
Duncan: Why should I go get him? I don’t care that he’s in our territory. He walks through it rather quickly with his human and never stays.
Penelope: Barking at the dog even louder now> But don’t you see? He’s in our territory and it’s wrong that a strange dog is in our pack’s territory. Go get him!
Duncan: Go get him yourself.
Penelope: What?
Duncan: Go get him yourself if you feel so strongly about it.
Penelope: I won’t do that.
Duncan: Why? You will certainly make a big fuss when he comes by.
Penelope: I’m scared.
Duncan: Of what?
Penelope: Of the other dog. He could hurt me. That’s why you have to go get him for me.
Duncan: I’ve already told you, I don’t mind him. It’s you who minds him. And if you mind him so much, you should go get him. Stand behind your barks.
Penelope: I want to tell him that he’s an invader, but I really don’t want to have to back it up. I’m little and he’s big. I need some one to stand up for me. It’s like when we go for walks and I bark at other dogs but when they come up to me I hide behind Mommy because she can protect me.
Duncan: So what you are saying is that you make it a policy to say one thing and then do another?
Penelope: Yes.
Duncan: What meaning do your barks have if you don’t back them up? Without the conviction to back them up they are just sound and fury.
Penelope: Well look at that, he’s gone. I must have scared him away with my vicious barking.
Duncan: Yes, that’s exactly what he’s responding to -- your all bark and no bite strategy.
Penelope: Sees another dog walking down the street in front of her house. Penelope barks loudly.>Oh! There is that dog who walks by our house again! He is in our territory! I am barking at him as loudly as I can! Duncan! Duncan! Go get him!
Duncan: Why should I go get him? I don’t care that he’s in our territory. He walks through it rather quickly with his human and never stays.
Penelope: Barking at the dog even louder now> But don’t you see? He’s in our territory and it’s wrong that a strange dog is in our pack’s territory. Go get him!
Duncan: Go get him yourself.
Penelope: What?
Duncan: Go get him yourself if you feel so strongly about it.
Penelope: I won’t do that.
Duncan: Why? You will certainly make a big fuss when he comes by.
Penelope: I’m scared.
Duncan: Of what?
Penelope: Of the other dog. He could hurt me. That’s why you have to go get him for me.
Duncan: I’ve already told you, I don’t mind him. It’s you who minds him. And if you mind him so much, you should go get him. Stand behind your barks.
Penelope: I want to tell him that he’s an invader, but I really don’t want to have to back it up. I’m little and he’s big. I need some one to stand up for me. It’s like when we go for walks and I bark at other dogs but when they come up to me I hide behind Mommy because she can protect me.
Duncan: So what you are saying is that you make it a policy to say one thing and then do another?
Penelope: Yes.
Duncan: What meaning do your barks have if you don’t back them up? Without the conviction to back them up they are just sound and fury.
Penelope: Well look at that, he’s gone. I must have scared him away with my vicious barking.
Duncan: Yes, that’s exactly what he’s responding to -- your all bark and no bite strategy.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Socratic Dialogue: Complicity
Setting: The kitchen. The cupboard has been opened and the trash has been looted.
Penelope: Yum. This trash is delicious. Thank you for opening the cupboard, Big Dog.
Duncan: Penelope, I can’t help but wonder about our conversation earlier. You seemed to take the moral high-ground in that discussion. You seemed to imply that I am doubly guilty in this garbage caper. Your line of questioning suggested that I am guilty not just of being disobedient, but being two-faced.
Penelope: I guess that my questions could be construed in that way. But you can also look at them as honest questions. Really, your actions lead me to wonder who the real Duncan is. It’s a question of integrity. Are you being true to yourself by pretending to be something that you are, in reality, not?
Duncan: Perhaps. But obviously such things don’t trouble me. I’m curious about your behavior, Little Dog. Why are you sharing in this wonderful feast of trash? Earlier, you suggested that to open the cupboard and take out the trash even though we are not supposed to is wrong. So why are you engaging in this activity with me?
Penelope: Big Dog, you know that it is silly to think that I could open the cupboard by myself. My face is flat. I do not have the Swiss Army Nose that you have.
Duncan: I understand that you are not equipped to do it, and that alone you would not be able to. But does not being able to mean that you would not?
Penelope: Oh, no. I would if I could. I have dreamed of having your nose.
Duncan: So, if you could, you would open the cupboard and take out the trash, even though you know it is wrong?
Penelope: Of course.
Duncan: You know that I get punished when I go into the garbage, don’t you?
Penelope: Yes.
Duncan: So would you say that you deserve to be punished tonight when the Ones With Thumbs get home?
Penelope: No! Why should I? I didn’t open the cupboard. We just agreed that I can’t open it, remember? I didn’t do the bad thing.
Duncan: Yet you are here, sharing in the fruits of the bad thing.
Penelope: You did the bad thing, you just let me eat the trash with you. Eating the trash isn’t bad. We agreed implicitly that it’s the getting into the trash that is the bad thing. The trash is just here, independent of the bad thing.
Duncan: I don’t think so. I don’t think that it’s the only bad thing. I think that you are doing a bad thing by benefiting from a bad thing. I think that that makes you as guilty as I am. You didn’t stop me and you are deriving as much pleasure from this caper as I am.
Penelope: How could I stop you? You are the Big Dog. I am the Little Dog. I follow your lead. I’m really just along for the ride on this one.
Duncan: True, you didn’t stop me, nor did you encourage me. However, that’s just an omission. It doesn’t make you innocent. Maybe if you had stayed out of the kitchen, had told me to go into the kitchen, and out of principle not joined me in this meal you might not be guilty.
Penelope: But you are the one who opened the door. That door would never have been opened if you were not here. Hey, are you going to lick out the rest of that bleu cheese container? If not, can I finish it?
Penelope: Yum. This trash is delicious. Thank you for opening the cupboard, Big Dog.
Duncan: Penelope, I can’t help but wonder about our conversation earlier. You seemed to take the moral high-ground in that discussion. You seemed to imply that I am doubly guilty in this garbage caper. Your line of questioning suggested that I am guilty not just of being disobedient, but being two-faced.
Penelope: I guess that my questions could be construed in that way. But you can also look at them as honest questions. Really, your actions lead me to wonder who the real Duncan is. It’s a question of integrity. Are you being true to yourself by pretending to be something that you are, in reality, not?
Duncan: Perhaps. But obviously such things don’t trouble me. I’m curious about your behavior, Little Dog. Why are you sharing in this wonderful feast of trash? Earlier, you suggested that to open the cupboard and take out the trash even though we are not supposed to is wrong. So why are you engaging in this activity with me?
Penelope: Big Dog, you know that it is silly to think that I could open the cupboard by myself. My face is flat. I do not have the Swiss Army Nose that you have.
Duncan: I understand that you are not equipped to do it, and that alone you would not be able to. But does not being able to mean that you would not?
Penelope: Oh, no. I would if I could. I have dreamed of having your nose.
Duncan: So, if you could, you would open the cupboard and take out the trash, even though you know it is wrong?
Penelope: Of course.
Duncan: You know that I get punished when I go into the garbage, don’t you?
Penelope: Yes.
Duncan: So would you say that you deserve to be punished tonight when the Ones With Thumbs get home?
Penelope: No! Why should I? I didn’t open the cupboard. We just agreed that I can’t open it, remember? I didn’t do the bad thing.
Duncan: Yet you are here, sharing in the fruits of the bad thing.
Penelope: You did the bad thing, you just let me eat the trash with you. Eating the trash isn’t bad. We agreed implicitly that it’s the getting into the trash that is the bad thing. The trash is just here, independent of the bad thing.
Duncan: I don’t think so. I don’t think that it’s the only bad thing. I think that you are doing a bad thing by benefiting from a bad thing. I think that that makes you as guilty as I am. You didn’t stop me and you are deriving as much pleasure from this caper as I am.
Penelope: How could I stop you? You are the Big Dog. I am the Little Dog. I follow your lead. I’m really just along for the ride on this one.
Duncan: True, you didn’t stop me, nor did you encourage me. However, that’s just an omission. It doesn’t make you innocent. Maybe if you had stayed out of the kitchen, had told me to go into the kitchen, and out of principle not joined me in this meal you might not be guilty.
Penelope: But you are the one who opened the door. That door would never have been opened if you were not here. Hey, are you going to lick out the rest of that bleu cheese container? If not, can I finish it?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Socratic Dialogue: Sneakiness
Setting: A cold, snowy day. The kitchen. Just after Mommy and the Big Guy have left for work.
Duncan: The Lady Who Dotes and The Guy Who Feeds Me forgot to put up the garbage. The chicken bones from last night smell so delicious. I know you can smell them. Get out of the way, Little Dog. I need to open the cupboard.
Penelope: Those bones smell delicious. If I had your nose, I’d be opening up the cupboard, too. My mouth is watering. I can’t wait for you to get it open. However, I can’t help thinking that this is a bad thing we are doing.
Duncan: Little Dog, what are you suggesting? I don’t like it.
Penelope: I am suggesting that maybe it isn’t a good idea to do this.
Duncan: Why, can’t you smell the bones?
Penelope: I can, but that’s not what I am struggling with here. (And you know that I am an impatient pug and hate to struggle). I’m interested in why you don’t get into the garbage when the Ones With Thumbs are home. Tell me, when the Ones With Thumbs are home, do you still want to get into the garbage?
Duncan: Of course. They keep delicious stuff in there. Last week The Guy Who Feeds Me put Chinese takeout in there.
Penelope: So, you want what is in the garbage when they are home. But I have observed you get into the garbage and take what you want only when they are not home. Is this observation correct?
Duncan: Yes.
Penelope: So what is the difference between when they are home and when they are not home? Why do you choose to take the food out of the cupboard when they are not home?
Duncan: Because if I did it when they were home, there is a better chance that they would see me do it.
Penelope: So you don’t want them to see you do it?
Duncan: Really, I don’t want to get punished. When I get into the garbage, they yell “No! No!” and then put me outside and do not look at me until the mess is cleaned up.
Penelope: So you don’t do it when they are at home because you don’t want to be punished?
Duncan: Yes.
Penelope: Why don’t you think they will punish you when they get home?
Duncan: Don’t you get it? They won’t know it’s me who’s doing it if they don’t see me doing it.
Penelope: So what you are telling me is that you are one way when the Ones With Thumbs are home, and another way when they are not?
Duncan: Yes, that’s right.
Penelope: So you are saying that you pretend to be a good dog when you are around the Ones With Thumbs, but it really doesn’t matter to you if you are a good dog when they can’t see you?
Duncan: Right. By pretending, I minimize the risk of being punished and maximize the reward of being adored.
Penelope: So tell me, who is the real Duncan?
Duncan: What do you mean?
Penelope: Who is the real you? The dog who is good and obedient when the Ones With Thumbs are around, or the dog who disobeys them just because they are gone for the day?
Duncan: I am uncomfortable with your insinuations, Little Dog. What are you accusing me of?
Penelope: I am not accusing you of anything. I am not trying to pick a fight, because we both know who would win -- you, Big Dog. I’m just wondering, who is the real Duncan?
Duncan: The Lady Who Dotes and The Guy Who Feeds Me forgot to put up the garbage. The chicken bones from last night smell so delicious. I know you can smell them. Get out of the way, Little Dog. I need to open the cupboard.
Penelope: Those bones smell delicious. If I had your nose, I’d be opening up the cupboard, too. My mouth is watering. I can’t wait for you to get it open. However, I can’t help thinking that this is a bad thing we are doing.
Duncan: Little Dog, what are you suggesting? I don’t like it.
Penelope: I am suggesting that maybe it isn’t a good idea to do this.
Duncan: Why, can’t you smell the bones?
Penelope: I can, but that’s not what I am struggling with here. (And you know that I am an impatient pug and hate to struggle). I’m interested in why you don’t get into the garbage when the Ones With Thumbs are home. Tell me, when the Ones With Thumbs are home, do you still want to get into the garbage?
Duncan: Of course. They keep delicious stuff in there. Last week The Guy Who Feeds Me put Chinese takeout in there.
Penelope: So, you want what is in the garbage when they are home. But I have observed you get into the garbage and take what you want only when they are not home. Is this observation correct?
Duncan: Yes.
Penelope: So what is the difference between when they are home and when they are not home? Why do you choose to take the food out of the cupboard when they are not home?
Duncan: Because if I did it when they were home, there is a better chance that they would see me do it.
Penelope: So you don’t want them to see you do it?
Duncan: Really, I don’t want to get punished. When I get into the garbage, they yell “No! No!” and then put me outside and do not look at me until the mess is cleaned up.
Penelope: So you don’t do it when they are at home because you don’t want to be punished?
Duncan: Yes.
Penelope: Why don’t you think they will punish you when they get home?
Duncan: Don’t you get it? They won’t know it’s me who’s doing it if they don’t see me doing it.
Penelope: So what you are telling me is that you are one way when the Ones With Thumbs are home, and another way when they are not?
Duncan: Yes, that’s right.
Penelope: So you are saying that you pretend to be a good dog when you are around the Ones With Thumbs, but it really doesn’t matter to you if you are a good dog when they can’t see you?
Duncan: Right. By pretending, I minimize the risk of being punished and maximize the reward of being adored.
Penelope: So tell me, who is the real Duncan?
Duncan: What do you mean?
Penelope: Who is the real you? The dog who is good and obedient when the Ones With Thumbs are around, or the dog who disobeys them just because they are gone for the day?
Duncan: I am uncomfortable with your insinuations, Little Dog. What are you accusing me of?
Penelope: I am not accusing you of anything. I am not trying to pick a fight, because we both know who would win -- you, Big Dog. I’m just wondering, who is the real Duncan?
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The Unexamined Life
Socrates says that the unexamined life is not worth living.
I disagree.
I, Poppy, live a wholly unexamined life. I do not question who walks by the house and whether they are a threat. I do not question my reputation in the neighborhood as a barker. I do not question my parents' reputations as poor disciplinarians. I simply bark. I can because the humans I live with are omnipotent, with the powers of treats and leashes, thumbs, fences, doors, locks, and keys. When they walk into the room, the lights turn on! When they come home in the winter the heat goes up! I can bark at the passersby because these immortals are on my side. When the stranger comes to the door, I can always stand behind the person who comes to answer it.
Is this unexamined life not worth living? What is so bad about lying spread-eagle on the tile floor to stay cool in the summer? What is so bad about sitting at the door and sniffing the breeze? What is so wrong about licking the salt off of human legs? What is so wrong about sleeping in a sunbeam all day long? Are these activities worth nothing because I do not ask myself, "Poppy, are you righteous?"
Witness Roomba. He toils daily but does not complain. When he gets stuck under the sofa he waits quietly until freed. He does not wonder about his destiny or his free will. When he is tired he returns to his dock to recharge. He does not ask himself, "Roomba, are you righteous?"
What does Socrates know?
I disagree.
I, Poppy, live a wholly unexamined life. I do not question who walks by the house and whether they are a threat. I do not question my reputation in the neighborhood as a barker. I do not question my parents' reputations as poor disciplinarians. I simply bark. I can because the humans I live with are omnipotent, with the powers of treats and leashes, thumbs, fences, doors, locks, and keys. When they walk into the room, the lights turn on! When they come home in the winter the heat goes up! I can bark at the passersby because these immortals are on my side. When the stranger comes to the door, I can always stand behind the person who comes to answer it.
Is this unexamined life not worth living? What is so bad about lying spread-eagle on the tile floor to stay cool in the summer? What is so bad about sitting at the door and sniffing the breeze? What is so wrong about licking the salt off of human legs? What is so wrong about sleeping in a sunbeam all day long? Are these activities worth nothing because I do not ask myself, "Poppy, are you righteous?"
Witness Roomba. He toils daily but does not complain. When he gets stuck under the sofa he waits quietly until freed. He does not wonder about his destiny or his free will. When he is tired he returns to his dock to recharge. He does not ask himself, "Roomba, are you righteous?"
What does Socrates know?
Friday, June 25, 2010
Positive Spin
Maybe having a baby around won't be so bad. She is a human baby so at least she will not be following me around jumping up and down and trying to kiss me on the mouth the way a puppy would.
Perhaps her eating habits will make up for the loss of attention I will suffer. A messy eater is a comfort to a neglected dog.
Perhaps her eating habits will make up for the loss of attention I will suffer. A messy eater is a comfort to a neglected dog.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Demoted
There has been a shift in the balance and order of the universe. I, Poppy, have been demoted.
Last night my Aunt Sarah had a baby, so I am not the baby of the family. I fear that I am no longer Grandma's favorite. I am afraid of what this turn of events will do to what I have come to think of as the normal rate and volume of doting and treat disbursement.
I know that this means that I will have to start facing up to the responsibilities and obligations of being an older cousin that I eschewed even though Lucy and Bear are younger than I.
I know this is expected of me. But I prefer not to.
Last night my Aunt Sarah had a baby, so I am not the baby of the family. I fear that I am no longer Grandma's favorite. I am afraid of what this turn of events will do to what I have come to think of as the normal rate and volume of doting and treat disbursement.
I know that this means that I will have to start facing up to the responsibilities and obligations of being an older cousin that I eschewed even though Lucy and Bear are younger than I.
I know this is expected of me. But I prefer not to.
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