By Aggie Moncus
The slave is off to have coffee with friends so I am going to do some writing in order to get this column out of the way before she returns to complain that she doesn’t have a subject this week. If she would let me write more frequently, she wouldn’t have to complain so much about trying to find subjects and might even be
able to find something of interest if she didn’t write every week.
You may well guess that I am still trying to get used to the different car she is driving, and I’m having one big job because I really don’t like much about it other than the door that lets me out. Of course, that is the same one that I jump through to get into the monster, but getting out is much easier because I can just fall to the ground without straining anything.
She said we needed another car because the last one wasn’t as dependable as it should have been. Well, it rarely kept me from having my Sunday trip to the country, and this one has already interrupted my life by being one big smart aleck. Can you believe that it tells the slave which tire to check and that the slave refuses to leave town when that light tells her to check the right rear tire. I had already checked all four, and they looked fine to me, but she said that one looked really low and muttered something about its having only ten
pounds of air.
She really didn’t say much because she had already loaded the garbage bag into the trunk so she could dump it in the alley on our way out of town. She actually got into the car, started it as usual, and drove down the alley. I was so happy to be out because that was one sunny, warm Sunday afternoon, and I wanted to take a long walk. She pitched the bag into the dumpster and headed to the end of the alley as usual, but then she merely drove around the block and entered the garage.
She even tried to con me into believing we had taken a long drive and that I had just forgotten we took our walk. She knows I am not a dumb dog and that I am not about to believe everything she says. I just looked at her until she convinced me we had to get out of the car and go back to the house. I thought about staying in the car but decided against that because it isn’t very comfortable for me anyway. I even thought about going along with her story but then realized she might think she really had fooled me into believing we had taken our ride into the valley. I couldn’t let her get by with that and just stomped back to the house to collapse on the floor and ponder my pitiful fate.
Fortunately, she had sense enough to have that tire repaired before last Sunday and took me for our ride and a longer walk than usual. Perhaps I should tell you that you can’t always believe everything the slave says as she has been known to stretch the truth and to tease others. Always watch her eyes carefully, and you will be able to note when she is telling the truth. I haven’t told her that I have discovered that secret and can always catch her in time to keep from being fooled. On the other hand, you can believe everything I say because I am one straight forward canine who knows far more than the slave and who will be glad to let you know when she is avoiding the truth. Here she comes to let me know she needs to type this column. Won’t she be pleased to see it is finished and in perfect order?