If dogs could talk

GRIN # 122

I haven’t told a “Sister” story in a while, and Jerry said I should offer this one up.

You remember Sister, right? My sweet-as-can-be, farting dog who’s sixteen years old.

I took her to the vet recently. The veterinarian was so happy to see such an old, happy dog he was almost in tears. (I think he’d dealt with a lot of sick animals that day).

Anyway, we shaved Sister at his recommendation so she no longer has the water buffalo look.

Now she’s a sheared lamb wearing UGGs.

Sister stays in the yard for the most part but her one passion is to take herself for a slow walk in the morning up the easement that runs by our house. She doesn’t go too far, just far enough to feel she’s had an adventure. This used to worry us, but everyone knows Sister and she’s so old and this makes her happy, so we just let her do it.

Occasionally, we’ll have someone call us (using the number on the tag) because they think she’s lost.

The other day it happened again; this time two teenage girls tried to save Sister.

I was getting ready to take Tyler to the bus-stop, and I heard Sister outside barking a low bark, almost a growl. I wondered if the water-meter-reader was outside.

I opened the door and stuck my head out.

“Sister! Quit that barking.”

“Uhhh, ma’am?” a girlish voice said.

I stepped outside.

“Oh hi. We found your dog way up on the easement. I knew she lived here, and we wanted to bring her back.”

The girls were beaming, proud of their good deed.

“Thank you!” I said. “I really appreciate it. She does that sometimes. How did you get her back?” Usually Sister will run if someone tries to get her collar, and I was curious.

“Well. We kind of chased her,” the girl said.

I looked at Sister. She was pissed. Those do-gooder girls ruined her whole walk AND chased her all the way home. She stood between the girls and me, her ears flattened, a stoic look on her face.

If Sister could talk:

“Bitches! How dare you chase me! Respect your elders! I was on a fantastic deer scent until you came along. Hmmpf!”

I thanked the girls again, and they left. Sister sighed and looked at me.

“C’mon, girl. I’ll give you some cheese for your trouble.”

Even dogs  have Mondays.

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2 Responses to “If dogs could talk”

  1. Awww Sweet Sweet Sister… Give her some cheese for me. Cassie used to do that same thing a slow slow walk around the easment behind our house.

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