Well hi there.
I've been getting grumbles via email about my absence from the blogosphere, but it's hardly my fault that I haven't blogged. My parents up and abandoned me this past weekend and dumped me at my grandparents. Initially I was thrilled to go for a car ride to NE Philly because I thought I'd see Buddy the Jack Russel who lives next door, and swim with him in his pool.
When Mom and Dad stopped outside my grandparent's house, I was beyond excited. My mom was half way out the car, holding onto my lead, when I jumped out the car at full throttle. Mom was ever so clumsy and fell out of the car backwards onto the concrete pavement. Of course she blamed me, when we all know full well that she just lost her balance. She sat on the concrete wiping her bloody elbow and screaming unmentionable insults at me. I didn't really care at that point as I spotted THREE wild bunnies jumping across the lawn and made a valiant effort to catch them! Dad grabbed me in mid air and dragged me and my unhappy Mom into the house.
After a while, I got bored and started thinking about those bunnies outside. So I sort of fooled Mom into thinking I was desperate for a pee and kept walking to the door! Mom told Dad he had to take me out 'cos she was not up to handling me, but Dad was obsessing over his sister's laptop trying to show off my blog to his parents. Mom was convinced I was about to pee on the floor - I'm such a great actor - so she impatiently took my lead and let me out.
And there again were those bunnies! Well, I lunged at them using every ounce of my strength and in so doing, almost pulled Mom right over or at least almost pulled her arm out it's socket and dragged her across the lawn in hot pursuit of the fluffy babies. She started screaming for Dad to come and help her as she just couldn't hold me back in her already traumatised state from her aforementioned clumsiness getting out of the car. Dad evidently didn't hear her, and grandma came to her rescue instead. I refused to come inside, but when I did eventually I could tell Mom had been yelling at Dad for failing to come to her aid, and for failing to take me out in the first place. It was not a pretty scene. Mom wouldn't even look at me - and frankly I was so enraptured by those bunnies, I didn't really give a shit. I know, I know, that sounds awfully mean, but furry bunnies ready to be chased are infinitely more exciting than emotionally distraught crying Mothers and chastised Fathers.
Next thing I knew, Dad and Mom had made up and were walking out the door hand in hand, WITHOUT ME. On the one paw I was happy to stay there on the off chance of chasing those bunnies again, but on the other paw, I didn't want to be abandoned either. And abandoned I was, not for one evening, but THREE whole days! I did everything I could to misbehave so that my grandparents would have enough of me and send me home. But they put up with my barking and misdeeds, the poor sods.
And then yesterday, 3 days after been summarily dumped, Dad arrives to take me home. I was happy to see him, I won't deny it, but I decided to play a little hard to get and to fake not wanting to go home. Dad looked rather surprised and a little hurt. But I reserved my best performance for Mom - when I saw her at home, I barely gave a wag, and for the next few hours, I pretended to be mad at them. I didn't follow them around like usual, I just sat morosely on the couch. Mom wondered aloud to Dad whether I was depressed - hahaha! - or ill - hahaha! I tell you I deserve an Oscar!
While Mom and Dad were trying to figure out my weird mental state, I overheard them threatening to take me for some training. Dad spoke to Elvis's Mom Priscilla who has some experience with dog training and told her what had happened at my grandparents and how badly behaved I was, and she told Dad that Mom needed to do arm strengthening exercise. HAHA! Boy did that make me laugh to myself. I misbehave and almost cripple my Mother (oops, I think I denied my part in that earlier) and the dog trainer says Mom is the one who needs the training! Hahaha! Mom was not amused with Priscilla's advice, to put it mildly.
"The bloody Axel dog is the problem, not ME" she proclaimed, "we need the bloody dog whisperer not a bloody personal trainer for ME!"
Enough said Mom.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Call me Monsieur Manipulator
Well hi there.