A Trip to Gibsons

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Tierce:  Another boat?

Me:  We’re going to an event in Gibsons.

Tierce:  This place smells like diesel.

Me:  That’s because this is the vehicle deck.

Tierce:  What’s that?

Me:  The ocean.

Tierce:  It looks wet. And cold.

Me:  Yeah. I’d take it as a kindness if you didn’t attempt a flying leap off the bow.

Tierce:  Not a problem. OHMYDOG BIG BAD WEIRD THING. A MOVING THING.

Me:  That’s the ship’s radar.

Tierce:  That’s the signal of the Hellmouth. They’re sailing us into the jaws of the Kraken!

Me:  Would you shut up?  Look, we’re under the roof again. It’s gone.

Tierce:  ALL HANDS ABANDON SHI- oh, okay. Hey, look, a tug toy!

Me:  No!  That’s a life preserver!

Tierce:  I bet I could run off with it and sever the rope in three places before you can reach the opposite end of the ship.

Me:  I’m not taking those odds.

Tierce: Spoilsport. What’s this?

Me:  This is the pet area.

Tierce:  The pet area?  It looks like a big crate. A Dane couldn’t even turn around in here.

Me:  Well, when they designed the ferry, pet areas weren’t a big consideration.

Tierce:  Now you know why their revenue’s dropping.

***

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Me:  Well, here’s Horseshoe Bay.

Tierce:  Shall we celebrate by sharing your ice cream?

Me:  No.

Tierce:  Explain.

Me:  Well, it’s chocolate.  Chocolate is bad for dogs.  I don’t want you getting sick.

Tierce:  You love the fact that chocolate is bad for dogs, don’t you?

Me:  Pretty much, yeah.

Tierce:  I’m pretty sure you’d come up with some other bullshit excuse if you were eating vanilla, say, or strawberry.

Me:  Oh, no, I’d make it sound plausible.

Tierce:  Such as…?

Me:  You can’t have it because I say you can’t and I’m bigger than you, with opposable thumbs.

Tierce:  There you go, throwing that in my face again.

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***

Me:  Here we are!

Tierce: Where?

Me:  At our friends’ in Gibsons.

Tierce:  Is ‘Gibsons’ short for ‘Ferry Forever?’ Because it sure seems like it.

Me:  Well we’re here now.

Tierce:  Meh. Whatever.

Friends:  Can Tierce have the ends of the ham we cooked for tomorrow’s event? Oh, and there’s some turkey skin he can have.

Tierce:  This is the greatest day of my life. Let’s stay here forever.

***

Me: Okay, we’re off. We’ll be back in a few hours.

Tierce:  Why can’t I come?

Me:  Dogs aren’t allowed in the curling club. Sorry.

Tierce:  That’s not fair. I eat really well at events.

Me:  Alas, these things sometimes happen.

Tierce:  I think this is a plot to keep the turkey from me.

Me:  Could be.  In fact, it probably is.  The people of Fjordland are just against Shibas having turkey.  Sorry.

Tierce:  I’m sure there’s some kind of medieval hospitality law against this.

Me:  Well, you see, that’s the awesome thing about the SCA.  We can pick and choose.

Tierce:  A Shiba is without honour in his own Principality.

***

Me:  Oh, come on.  Stop looking all depressed.

Tierce:  I can’t help it.  All is dead.  I’m trapped.  The walls are closing in.

Me:  I came back in the middle of the event to let you out to pee.  You were just on an hour walk through the forest.  I didn’t even let a coyote eat you.  Still, you complain.

Tierce:  No will to live.

Me:  Okay, enough of that.  Come up on the bed here.  Look out the window.

Tierce:  I’m in the pit of despai- HEY THERE WAS A BIRD. DID YOU SEE THAT? A BIRD JUST FLEW BY.

Me:  That’s right, a bird.

Tierce:  Hey, a car.

Me:  Great.

Tierce:  ‘Nother car.

Me:  Thanks for sharing.

Tierce:  You’ll never guess what’s coming up the road.

Me:  A coyote?

Tierce:  No!  A woman with a SCHNAUZER!

Me:  This is news?

Tierce:  Another bird!

Me:  I’m just going to leave you to, uh, enjoy the sights.

Tierce:  No kidding, it’s like Wild Kingdom out here.

***

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Me:  What are you doing?

Tierce:  Getting ready for bed.

Me:  Well, most dogs get ready for bed at the end of the bed.  Not the pillows.  The pillows are for people.  Like me.

Tierce:  If pillows were meant for people, then why are they sized for me?

Carrot Cake

But I got my revenge.

But I got my revenge.

Me: What is this?

Tierce:  Looks like a paper bag.  On the floor.  Yep, that’s what it is.  A paper bag on the floor.

Me:  Correction.  It used to be a paper bag.  Now it is a soggy collection of cellulose.  On the floor.

Tierce: I don’t see what this has to do with me.

Me:  Did this bag contain the slice of carrot cake I brought from the farmers market today?

Tierce:  I really couldn’t say.  Dog memory, you know.  Very short.

Me:  This was going to be my breakfast tomorrow.

Tierce:  You really should eat healthier.  And it’s more convenient for you; I don’t really like apples.

Me:  So the mystery of you pooping four times has now been solved.

Tierce:  You really have the most amazing powers of deduction.

Me:  Let’s get one thing straight.  Food in bags is mine.  You will not touch anything that is in a bag.  You will not eat anything that is wrapped in anything.  You will not seek to take that which is mine.

Tierce:  Uh, sure.  Wait, what about the stuff you don’t want?

Me:  What do you mean, ‘the stuff I don’t want’?

Tierce:  Well, you throw stuff in the garbage all the time.  You don’t want it.  So I figure, that means that I can-

Me:  No.

Tierce:  No?

Me:  There will be no foraging in the garbage.

Tierce:  Uh… okay.

Me:  What?

Tierce:  Have you been to the bathroom lately?

Me:  No, I just got in the door.  Why?

Tierce:  Don’t go up there.

Me:  Whyyy?

Tierce:  It’s just… you shouldn’t.

Me:  Well, we’ll just see about tha- OH MY DOG, THAT’S DISGUSTING! YOU LITTLE PRICK!

Tierce:  Well, you didn’t want that!  You were going to throw it all away!

Me:  THERE WILL BE NO TOUCHING THE GARBAGE.  THERE WILL BE NO FORAYS TO THE BATHROOM.  THIS AREA IS FORBIDDEN TO YOU FOR ALL TIME.

Tierce:  So where am I going to get a drink?

Me:  In your bucket!  Where the hell do you think?!

Tierce:  That only gets changed like, twice, three times a day.  The toilet water gets changed all the time.

Me:  Let me make something clear.  You like eating?

Tierce:  One of my all-consuming hobbies.

Me:  You like your walks?

Tierce:  Sure, gives me a chance to be awesome in front of other people.

Me:  You like getting treats?

Tierce:  You know it.

Me:  Stay out of the damn bathroom or that all goes away.  I’ll confine you to the house and feed you gruel.

Tierce:  What’s ‘gruel’?

Me:  Bland oatmeal that looks like watery barf.

Tierce:  Hey, don’t knock the barf until you try it.

Me:  You know what?  I’m going to get another dog.  A better dog.  You know, like a Border Collie.  A Labrador Retriever.  Something docile and mindlessly obedient.

Tierce:  Oh, a sycophant.

Me:  No, a pleasurable companion.

Tierce:  A brainwashed minion.

Me:  A well-trained helpmeet.

Tierce:  A servile peon.

Me:  A noble comrade.

Tierce:  No matter how you dress it up, it still reveals your need for an assistant to enable your delusions of grandeur.

Me:  And you’re a better choice?

Tierce:  I’m here to ensure that you never think better of yourself than you really are.

Me:  How comforting.

Tierce:  I like to think of myself as an aversion therapy dog.

Dogs VS Kids

Me: I can’t believe Tierce is 5-and-a-half already.

Mischa: 5-and-a-half already. Are you 5-and-a-half, little puppy?

Tierce: Keep petting me.

Me: Can you imagine how it would be if he were a kid, how annoying he would be?

Mischa: More than he is already?

Me: Much more. We couldn’t shove him in a crate, for starters.

Mischa: What’s wrong with shoving your kid in a crate?

Me: I think Child Protective Services frowns on that sort of thing. Same with rolled up newspapers and training collars, apparently.

Mischa: Huh. Next thing they’ll be telling us that we can’t just keep the kid in the yard during the day while we’re both at work.

Me: Pretty much; it’s not like I could take a kid to a dog daycare. He would probably learn to crap outside instead of inside the house and not to bark, but that’s about it.

Mischa: Yeah, that’s true.

Me: I’m glad that we’re never having kids.

Mischa: And so is the rest of the world.

Stuffed Shibas are better

Me: Hey, look, Tierce. I got my Groomy Pet On The Desk Shiba today. Isn’t it cute?

Tierce: Meh.

Me: Awww! How could woo wot wuv him?

Tierce: Look, is this a toy for me to destroy? Because otherwise I’m not interested.

Me: Oh wook at twa wittow puppy.

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Tierce: Not impressed. Not. In. The. Slightest.

Me: Mischa and I have discussed it and we’ve decided that since you’re not a cute puppy anymore, the Groomy is going to replace you.

Tierce: You see this? This is the face of a dog who’s going to trip you down the stairs one day.

Me: Yeah, we figured that now that the new dog is here…

Tierce: It’s not a dog. It’s a toy. How much did you waste importing it from Japan, anyway?

Me: …we’ll just tie you out in the yard most of the time…

Tierce: You are pissing me off. Get this thing off my head.

Me: …throw you scraps of food…when we remember, of course…

Tierce: Take this fucking thing off my head or I’m going to spread its stuffing all over the floor before I “accidentally” leave my Kong out in the path leading to the toilet.

Welcome Home!

Me:  Well, I’m home.

Tierce:  That’s so awesome!  Bring me anything?

Me:  Hang on; I’ve got to get my stuff off.

Tierce:  …

Me:  Okay, there we go.  Hi, Tierce!  How’s my ‘ittle puppy?

Tierce:  Can I go outside?

Me:  You’re not happy to see me?  I’ve been gone for two days!

Tierce:  Uh, yeah, well, the excitement has passed.

Me:  Fine.  Go outside.

Tierce: Yay!

Me:  Wait… no.  Don’t start chewing on that bone.  I want you to go pee!

Tierce:  I like the bone.

Me:  NO.  Go.  Pee.

Tierce:  *nibble, stare, nibble, stare*

Me:  Okay, that’s it!

Tierce:  Nyah, nyah, nyah!  You can’t have this bone!  Neener neener.

Me:  Oh, it’s not the bone I want.

Tierce:  You can’t fool me; it’s the bone you want and I know it!

Me:  Tierce, I *gave* you that bone.

Tierce:  And I’m keeping it.

Me:  Fine!  In the house!

Tierce:  Okay, whatever you say.

Me:  DON’T TAKE THE BONE INTO THE HOUSE.

Tierce:  Look, I’m going into the house.  Just like you said.

Me:  DROP IT.

Tierce:  See, I’m in the house.

Me:  DROP THAT BONE!

Tierce:  I did what you told me to; I’m in the house and you’re still yelling at me.  You’re never happy are you?

Me:  Drop that bone or I’m going to drop-kick both you and the bone out into the yard and watch you try to chew it while you’re still rooting around in your large colon for your teeth!

Tierce:  Oh, if the SPCA could hear you now, Ms. I-Believe-In-Humane-Treatment-For-Animals!  *drops bone*

Me:  *kicking bone outside*  I could find a better dog.  A respectful dog.

Tierce:  OH ARE YOU PLAYING SOCCER? CAN I PLAY?  I’LL CATCH THE BONE!  KICK IT TO ME!

Me:  We are not playing soccer.  It’s midnight, I work tomorrow, I have to catch up on Facebook and blog about your inhumane treatment of your owner.

Tierce:  KICK THE BONE SO I MAY CHASE IT.

Me:  No, we’re going to play “curl up on the couch and shut the hell up”.

Tierce:  I don’t like that game right now.  KICK THE BONE.

Me:  *shuts and locks door*

Tierce:  Okay, fine, you don’t want to play soccer with the bone.  How about playing tug with my beefstick?

Me:  No.

Tierce:  Oh, let’s play with my toy hamster!

Hamster:  Chirpedeewow! *electronic beeps, squeals, whistles*

Me:  NO.  *turns hamster off, puts in inaccessible location*

Tierce:  My stuffed snowman?

Me:  No!  Go away!  Chew on your beefstick!

Tierce:  Oh, I know, you love playing with the Kong.

Me:  Forget it!

Tierce:  plonk

Me:  FML.  *toss*

Tierce:  Yay!

The curious incident of the Shiba in the night time.

Me:  Are we there yet?

Mischa:  Yup, get out.

Me:  I love our new car, but that paint the former owner used to spruce up the interior is making me ill.

Mischa:  It’s just a few more minutes.  We’ll stop off at my sister’s and then go to the hospital to visit Mom.

Tierce:  Hey, this place sounds familiar.

Me:  Sounds good.  Hey are we going to have dinner together tonight or should I pick up something at the hospital restaurant?

Mischa:  I think we’re fending for ourselves tonight.   I’m saving my Scotch egg for a snack if we end up staying with Mom for a while.

Tierce:  Don’t forget the dog.  I haven’t had anything to eat today!  I could be starving!

Me:  What’s a Scotch egg?  Was that one of those dumpling-looking things at MacLean’s Specialty Foods?

Mischa:  Yeah, it’s a hardboiled egg wrapped in sausage and rolled in breadcrumbs.  It’s really good.

Tierce:  I’ll say; it smells awesome!

Mischa:  Well, here we are.

Tierce:  Yay!

Me:  There ya go.

Tierce:  That smell… I remember being here.  I remember that smell!  I MUST HAVE IT!

Me:  Okay, and the computer can go here for now… and let’s see… I should take Tierce for a walk.

Mischa:  Well how about you do that and I’ll drive my niece to her job.

Me:  Great, see ya…  Tierce?

Me:  Tierce?

Me:  TIERCE!

Tierce:  CHASECHASECHASEKILLKILLKILL

Hamster that has been forgotten up until 3 seconds ago:  PANICPANICPANIC

Me:  OH MY GOD.

Tierce:  CHASEKILLCHASEKILLCHASEKILL

Me:  HOW DID YOU GET THAT CAGE OFF THE DESK?!

Tierce:  Kinda busy now.

Me:  NO!  NO!  NO!  LEAVE IT!  NEVER TOUCH IT AGAIN!

Tierce:  Well if you wanted first dibs, you totally should have let me know before.  I’m sorry; you can kill and eat it if you want…. Bitch.

Me:  Never touch this hamster!  Never look at it!  Never think of it!  LEST YOU DIE!

Tierce:  Okay, okay… look, I’m being submissive.  I won’t muscle in on your territory… it’s cool…

Me:  LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO THE FLOOR!

Tierce:  Dude, seriously, you’re getting way too freaked out.  I TOLD you it was okay.  Go ahead… kill and eat it; I’m cool with it being yours okay?  I mean, it would be awesome if you gave me a piece, but-

Me:  NO ONE IS KILLING OR EATING THIS HAMSTER.

Hamster:  Can I just go back into my cage and we can pretend this never happened?

Tierce:  I don’t know, you’re rather *unforgettable*.

Hamster:  AAAAAHHH!

Me:  YOU ARE NOT KILLING OR EATING THIS HAMSTER!

Tierce:  Killjoy.  Are you people, like, squirrels or something?  Do you save these things for the winter?

Me:  I am cleaning this up and putting the hamster back in the cage.  You are going to lie there and think over your bad behaviour.

Tierce:  Not getting the cage open in time before you came downstairs?

Mischa:  Hi, what happened here?

Me:  Tierce tried to kill the hamster.

Mischa:  Tierce!  BAD DOG!

Tierce:  Everyone’s making a fuss.

Mischa:  Is it okay?

Hamster:  Would you be?

Me:  It seems okay; I can only hope it won’t die in the next week or so or we’ll be in for it.

Mischa:  Here’s the vacuum.

Tierce:  My ancient enemy!

Me:  You stay right there!

Tierce:  You know what?  I don’t even care anymore if it tries to take over the world.  You’re both completely insane.

Me:  Okay, we’re done.

Mischa:  You know, I think we should bring him with us.  He can stay in the car while we visit Mom; it’s evening and it won’t be hot or anything.

Me:  Yeah, I agree.

Tierce:  Damn.  Heyyy, how are ya doing.

Hamster:  Suddenly less well.

Me:  TIERCE!  GET AWAY FROM THE HAMSTER!

Mischa:  BAD DOG!

Tierce:  Jeez, fine… although I bet you spoilsports aren’t even going to eat the damn thing.  The least you could do is feed me.  I’m starving.

Me:  Definitely bringing the dog with us.

Tierce:  Dammit, I wanted to stay there!  I bet the kitchen is full of good stuff I can find in the corners.  And I’m sure I could learn to open the door to the downstairs if I try hard enough.

Mischa:  Fucking dog.

Me:  I know.  What a little shit.

Mischa:  I guess that’s what they’re bred for, though.

Me:  Yeah.  What gets me, though, is the fact that we’ve never let him chase things or kill things and the second he sees a rabbit or a hamster, he’s like a great white shark homing in on a chum slick.

Mischa:  No kidding.  Well, here we are.  Tierce, you be a good boy!  Well, as much as you’re able to.

Me:  You be a good puppy!

Tierce:  Yeah, yeah, yeah.

***

Me:  Well, we’re back.  Tierce!  Get in the back seat!

Tierce:  Fine.

Mischa:  What’s this paper bag on the front seat?

Me:  What paper bag?

Mischa:  Oh you fucking little shit.

Tierce:  What?

Me:  What?

Mischa:  That little bastard ate my Scotch egg!

NaNoWriMo

I’ve been working on NaNoWriMo for the past couple of weeks… here’s an excerpt:

Tierce:  You know, if there are aliens watching us right now, they would figure that we ran things and you just follow us around with bags, saving our poop for some unknown purpose.

Me:  It could be construed that way, but I think that in the general scheme of things, I’m betting that the aliens’ eyes will be elsewhere.

Tierce:  I see aliens *every day*.

Me:  No kidding.

Tierce:  Like our neighbour.

Me:  Which one?

Tierce:  The one that has that sign out on the lawn.

Me:  Oh, that one with the plumber’s business or something?

Tierce:  Yeah.

Me:  Why is he an alien?

Tierce: I can’t believe this… you were there!  I tried to warn you!

Me:  *sigh*  Kindly elaborate?

Tierce:  Well, when we were walking a few months back, he had *put a sign out*.   You can’t tell me that’s not seriously weird.

Me:  Yep, that’s the sign of the Beast all right.  Anything else?

Tierce:  I’m getting to the good part.  You know when we were walking last week?

Me:  Uh, sure.

Tierce:  Well I was just minding all the other dogs’ business when I looked over and he had moved it to a different place.

Me:  Oh, I remember that time.  When you started barking at the sign and wouldn’t stop until I dragged you into the house?

Tierce:  Yeah, it was freaky.

Me:  I would say ‘embarrassing’ is a more accurate term.  Yes, ‘embarrassing’ covers it.

Tierce:  I’m sure you’ll be embarrassed when the truth comes out!

Me:  Well, so we have an alien on our block.  Thanks for the info.

Tierce:  Any time.  It’s about time that you realized that I’m not making noise just for the hell of it.

Me:  Why don’t you bark at the sign any more?

Tierce:  Two reasons:  you get annoyed and the sign isn’t alien anymore.  I fixed it.

Me:  How did you fix the sign?

Tierce:  By peeing on it.

Me:  You have magical piss?  Hey, could you pee on this new truck over here?

Tierce:  That’s not how it works!  Once I pee on it, it’s mine.

Me:  Oh, okay.

Tierce:  Besides, I can’t drive.

Me:  Duly noted.  Well, thanks for the warning that wasn’t.

Tierce:  I wasn’t finished!  There are more.

Me:  More what?

Tierce:  Aliens.

Me:  More aliens?  Do tell.

Tierce:  For instance, those small people.

Me:  Small people.

Tierce:  Yeah, small people.  They’re weird and I’m sure they’re from another planet.

Me:  Wait, “small people”; you mean children?

Tierce:  Yeah.

Me:  Children aren’t aliens… well, all children aren’t aliens.  I’ve seen some pretty freaky kids, so you could be right about some of that.

Tierce:  No, they’re all aliens.

Me:  Is that why you bark at a lot of them?

Tierce:  Someone has to take a stand.

Me:  And yet when they come up to you, you like them.

Tierce:  Well, I’m so awesome that when they come up to pet me, my aura changes them into humans.

Me:  You don’t bark at Logan or Kim anymore.

Tierce:  Who?

Me:  My friends’ grandkids.

Tierce:  Oh, they stopped being aliens a long time ago.  They’re real people now.

Me:  Because of… you.

Tierce:  Of course because of me.  If it weren’t for me, those poor kids would have been aliens all their lives.

Me:  Uh, sure.  You know what?

Tierce:  What?

Me:  I think you have it backwards.

Tierce:  How so?

Me:  Well, every time *you* get used to something or someone, they’re not an alien anymore.  It’s you who is changing; not them.

Tierce:  Now who’s talking crazy?  I’m the same as I ever was.

Baby Talk

babyMischa:  Bedtime for puppies.  Come on, Tierce.  Bedtime!

Me:  You are just ga-ga over that dog.

Mischa: *scoops Tierce up and cradles him like a baby*  No.

Me:  Ahuh.

Mischa:  Awww… look at da wittow puppy.  *Carries Tierce over so that his nose pokes my ear*

Me:  Yes, he’s a good little puppy.

Tierce:  *martyred expression*

Mischa:  It’s time to take da wittow puppy upstairs.

Me:  Seriously.  It’s kind of weird having a guy who looks like a Hell’s Angel, murmuring to their dog in baby talk.

Mischa:  Ohhhhhh look, Mommy’s mad.  We’d better go upstairs.

Me:  I’m not the dog’s mother.

Mischa:  Practically.

Tierce:  It would still make me a son of a bitch.

Me:  No, he’s my dog.  Not my kid.

Mischa:  Don’t listen to her.

Tierce:  Oh, believe me, I try not to.

Mischa:  Listen to Daddy, instead.

Me:  Oh, please.  Goo-goo, ga-ga, it’s enough to make you sick.

Mischa:  You baby-talk him too!

Me:  Yeah, right.  Tierce, do I baby talk da wittow puppy?

Tierce:  Yes.

Mischa:  See!  That’s baby-talk!

Me:  I’m merely communicating with Tierce on an emotional level.  You, on the other hand, are just being weird.

Mischa:  C’mon Tierce, let’s go upstairs and put da puppy to bed.

Me:  Yeah, Tierce, go upstairs with Daddy and put him to bed.

Mischa:  HAH!

Me:  What?

Mischa:  You said ‘Daddy’!

Me:  I was being facetious.

Mischa:  That rolled off your tongue too well.

Tierce:  Yeah, you’ve said it to me lots of times.

Me:  You know what, just go upstairs.  Okay?

Mischa:  Fine.  Let’s go, Tierce.

Tierce:  Um, yeah.  Let’s go.  Great.

Me:  Yes, Tierce, Mommy’ll be up there soon.

Mischa:  HAH!

Me:  Shut up!

The Amazing Pot Lid

Me:  Here, Tierce, time to go out.  You can go out in the yard without a leash this time.

Tierce:  Awesome!

Me:  Oh, I hope so.

Tierce:  This is so cool!

Me:  Do you know what is expected of you?

Aluminum pot lid:  I’ll do my best.

Me:  That’s all I ask.

Tierce:  Doodeedoodeedoo, peepeepeepee.

Me:  Tierce, front!

Tierce:  Yeah, whatever.

Me:  Tierce.  Front.

Tierce:  Maybe some other time.

Aluminum pot lid:  WHAMBANGCRASH!!!

Tierce:  WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!  THAT NEARLY HIT ME!

Me:  TIERCE, FRONT!

Tierce:  YeahsureokayI’mhere.  What was that?

Me:  The best feeling I’ve had in two years.

Tierce:  Uh… okay.

Me:  Hey, go have fun.  Run around some more.

Tierce:  Okay…

Me:  That was great.

Aluminum pot lid:  Glad to oblige you.  Again?

Me:  Let’s see what he does.  Tierce, front!

Tierce:  I’m coming… hey that smells interesting…

Me:  Tierce, FRONT!

Tierce:  In a minute.

Aluminum pot lid:  WHAMBANGCRASH!

Tierce:  WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!  THAT NEARLY HIT ME!

Me:  TIERCE, FRONT!

Tierce:  YeahsureokayI’mhere.  Dude, this is seriously freaking me out.

Me:  You’re a good boy for coming when called!  What a good boy!  Okay, go have fun.

Tierce:  …Okayyy…

Me:  Tierce, front!

Tierce:  You called?

Me:  Yeah.  That was awesome.  You’re such a good boy.

Tierce:  Yeah, I am.  So, you mean if I come when I’m called, that UFO isn’t going to make a huge freaky noise right in front of my face?

Me:  Yeah, more or less.

Tierce:  Wiiieeeeerrrrd…

*** Two Weeks Later ***

Me:  Tierce, front!

Tierce:  Right away!

Me:  GOOD boy!

Tierce:  Yes I am.  You know, I’ve never seen that UFO since that night.

Me:  Oh, it’s out there.  Watching.  Waiting for you to slip up.

So Not Begging

notbegging

I’m totally not begging.  Really.  I’m just observing your eating habits.  It’s fascinating, the culinary behaviour of humans.  Just fascinating.  If you don’t mind, what is the origin of that cheese-covered bread crust peeping at me from the upper left quadrant of your plate?  I’m just curious.  I’m a big fan of cheese, by the way.  It’s kind of, like, a life calling for me.  But don’t mind me; by all means continue with your meal.  I’m just an impartial observer.  How does it taste?  I’ve always said that you were an excellent cook; other people might not share that opinion, but I know it as fact. I’m just wondering, as a matter of detached interest, are you planning to eat that aforementioned crust of bread?  I’m just curious, because if you weren’t going to eat it, I could be prevailed upon to ensure that it doesn’t go to waste.  Humans are so wasteful.  Oh, I don’t mean youyou’re different.  You wouldn’t just throw out a perfectly nourishing 5 cheese bread dripping with paillot de chevre if there was a hungry mouth that would be grateful even for the tiniest crumb.

I’ve always said that you were the best person ever.

Me:  Tierce!  Stop begging!

Tierce:  I’m not begging.

Mischa:  He’s not begging.

Me:  He’s staring at me.

Tierce:  Well, not at you…

Mischa: He’s just interested in what you’re doing.

Me:  Tierce!  Go away!

Tierce:  Aww…

Mischa:  Look, now you’ve hurt his feelings.

Tierce:  Yeah!