My old dog is one sneaky snake.


Hera, surreptitiously staring at me from the corner of her eye. Oh, she’s a sneaky snake. Sneaky, sneaky snake dog!

Oh that Hera-dog!

My big, ol’ 13 1/2 years old dog, Hera, is one sneaky snake of a senior canine. When I’m home she hardly gets out of her bed without prompting, leading me to believe she’s in too much pain or too tired to make the effort. But recently I’ve come home to find cat litter strewn across the floor, toilet paper in the living room, and some other disgusting signs of doggy recreational activity (if you must know, I’m talking about used *ahem* “feminine hygiene” products that’ve been mysteriously transported from the garbage can to beneath Hera’s bed). Gross, huh?

Anyway, a few days ago, right after I had locked the front door, I saw Hera immediately jump out of her bed, which is right under a large window next to the door, and watched as she trotted into the kitchen and straight for Tigre’s food bowl. Yeah.

I banged on the window, startling Ms. Sneaky Snake,  but apparently not enough to deter her from the promised land. It wasn’t until I went through the hassle of unlocking both doors and going inside that she had the decency to hang her head in what I believed to be an honest display of shame. She sidled away from the bowl, embarrassed to be caught in the act of what she clearly recognizes as forbidden conduct.

After putting Tigre’s food out of reach, I left, satisfied that Hera had learned her lesson.

My dog is a great actress. Today, after locking the door, I once again watched as she made a beeline for the cat’s bowl. This time she ignored my window banging, apparently intent on getting that food before I could get back in to stop her. But I was fast; I made it in time.
I yelled! I chastised! Once again she gave me the downcast eyes, the look of sad shame that could only mean one thing: Hera was so, so sorry she’d failed me. It would never happen again. Though she’d done something wrong, I ended up feeling guilty. Poor Hera!

I put Tigre’s food on top of the fridge, locked the doors again, and looked in through the window; Hera was watching me out of the corner of her eye. I swear I detected a hint of anger or bitterness. Her plan, foiled again.

This wasn’t over…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: