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: There will be no foraging in the garbage.
Tierce: Uh… okay.
Tierce: Have you been to the bathroom lately?
Me: No, I just got in the door. Why?
Tierce: Don’t go up there.
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.
I read this aloud to my husband. He actually spit coffee. He never reacts like that. I think he’s starting to get why I like you… and Tierce. 😀
I loved this wee story. It made me think of the many dogs I had in the past. It put a sweet smile on my face. Thank you and keep up the good work. 🙂