The slave slithers back home

By Lynn Moncus: QCS columnist

While the slave was down south becoming an Ancient Aggie from NM A & MA, I, Dame Agatha Christie, aka Aggie, was suffering in jail for a few days and am still more than a little miffed about being left. Believe me, she has suffered for that kind of mistreatment because I have seen that her life has been miserable.

When I was a puppy, she used to leave me in what she called “camp” on occasion and even had me convinced I could have a good time while she was gone. Well, I am now a most sedate young lady and do not appreciate such treatment. In those years, I rather enjoyed visiting with other trapped dogs and didn’t mind missing my food and sleep, but now I certainly resent being cast aside while she frolics with the other old folks.

I did my best to out bark the other inmates and became an unpopular jailbird by mouthing off and by turning my nose up at the bread and water type menu served. I also resented the limited space and absence of my own bed. I didn’t even have my own comfortable corner in which to hide when I became frightened of the jailers. Besides, they weren’t about to offer me any treats before bedtime or to take me out into the yard to look at the stars.

When the slave finally paid my fine late Sunday evening, I pretended to be very glad to see her and led her to the car at top speed. Once we were in our own home, I demanded constant attention and drank much water as fast as I could because I was practically dehydrated as those little sips to wash down the crumbs never satisfied me.

I then gave her time to sit in our recliner and landed beside her for a short nap while she rubbed my aching shoulders and told me how glad she was to see me. Just as she was about to relax, I awakened with a ravenous appetite because she had set the clock back an hour in order to torture me further.

I didn’t want to tell her, but the food she had placed before me was so delicious, that I didn’t have time to pretend I hadn’t eaten for days. I just ate each kibble as fast as I could and hoped she would give me more. She tried to explain that I had already drunk too much water and would be ill were I to eat any more supper. I was too tired to argue and decided to run to the backyard with her so we could check out all my favorite hiding places and so I could see the stars and bark at the neighbors’ dogs.

We played for a few minutes and then returned to our recliner so I could take another nap beside her and be pampered while she tried to apologize for her neglect. I couldn’t argue with her because I was so happy to be in our own home and to know I could run to my very own corner should I become frightened of any unusual sounds around the house. Of course, I didn’t need to go to that corner because I was so pleased to be in our chair and to know that she would offer me a treat before bedtime. She even had some special jerky to give me, and I ate as fast as I could, hoping she would give me more than usual.

She didn’t but said I could have more the next day.

When I settled into bed that night, I was so happy that I forgot to be cranky and just slept soundly hoping the slave would hear any noises that might be frighting, After all, it was her turn to protect me because I had suffered for all those days. She even let me sleep until after the sun came up the next morning and had my breakfast ready soon after I had raced around my yard.

If you hear that she is planning to leave town again any time soon, please let me know because I’m going to pack my bag and go with her or run away from home before she returns. The slave really needs to learn who’s boss on this corner!