It was 11:42 p.m. as I began to softly nod, my head leaning toward my chest, such a heavy thing it is. Slowly escalating to a somber snore, I was ecstatically awoken by the pitiful whimpering of Gi-Gi. She is a 9 year-old Shih-Tzu, the most spoiled k9 on the face of this Earth. Grimacing at her in an instant I understood what she wanted. Rising from the sofa half asleep with her prancing before me as if she were a ballerina auditioning for Juilliard. Two hind legs and all, she followed as I slowly made my way to the door. Shifting my feet like a train stuck in its tracks, the image depicted a zombie of the un-dead fresh out of a comic strip. Upon opening the door she slid through the crack jetting out and in a flash back into the house. Considering the simple fact that Gi-Gi believes herself to be human, just covered in fur I knew it just had to be something that was just to “icky” for her. I mean literally, for example, she assumes her position on the couch no matter how many times she is told to get down, expects to be fed nothing but the best of the best table food, and the list goes on. It was raining and she realized it as soon as she set her royal blue polished, finished with crystal clear glossed to nails onto the porch. She shivered in terror atop my daddy’s favorite chair while holding in the temptation to relieve herself. Starring at her furiously impatient at the time, I proceeded to say in complete dominance, “Get off that couch and go potty ya prissy dog!” Tilting her head to the side as if she understood every word, then in total defiance found her spot and settled. I could have sworn I heard her chuckle, but deciding not to care I carried on. Locking up the house and giving the “princess” a pat on the head I retired for the night and went to bed. After all, she was the one who would have to hold it all night till the morning, at least that’s what I assumed. Such horrid stench lay predisposed, drifting beneath my nose as I opened my eyes the next morning. The terrible sight that lay in the door way of my bed room, was a victory flag in her perception. Peering at the disgusting view I could hardly hold my tongue as both a punishing yell and vomit urged to be set free. Gi-Gi, a devious thing she was strolled by, stopped, sniffed, and continued with ultimate satisfaction. She had won.
The day she won
October 21, 2008