A Girl and Her Dog

We had a dog a few years ago.  She was… something sent from the other world to torture us.

So we gave her away to a farm (a real farm, not the proverbial Farm).  This tortured my brother F so much (as he had some strange attachment to The Beast) that my parents soon set about finding a dog more appropriate to our non-daily-catastrophe-loving family.

Still reeling from the monster that had recently left our home, my Dad picked up a little ivory colored fluffy Yorkiepoo with the mildest manners and the emptiest head of any dog that I’ve ever encountered.  (The Beast had empty eyes, but that is because she had to hide the evil plotting going on in her horrid little brain.)

Mitzi the Yorkiepoo, despite her lack of common sense, has very powerful emotions – although they aren’t well directed.  And unfortunately, instead of bonding to F, for whom she had been bought, she decided to bond – and by bond, I mean nuclear fusion bond – to my baby sister, B.

If B is gone (and worse, if Mom is gone too) for any length of time, she mopes.  And by mopes, I mean that she has to be carried outside to go to the bathroom, and won’t eat anything for days on end.  My Dad usually remedies this by frying up her own meal of eggs and cheese, which tempts her for a while and then gets old after a couple of days.

I’ve never seen a dog do backflips before, but when B walks through that front door, Mitzi is just one blur of blonde wispies.  And if B is inaccessible, like in the bathroom or some other inexcusable location, Mitzi whines.  And pads outside the door.  I never need to knock to find out who’s taking too long when Mitzi is curled up outside the bathroom with her nose frantically pressed against the crack under the door.

In the above photo, for instance, B had the unmitigated gall to be eating her dinner on the back porch.

It really is rather touching.  And I’ve always been a touch jealous.  What child didn’t want a dog that faithfully padded at their heels wherever they went?  And although she can’t properly be termed a “family dog” because of her insane blinders for B, and despite my long standing devotion to my own childhood German Shepherd (The Most Wonderful Dog In The World) I’ll admit (don’t tell anyone) that I think Mitzi is super sweet.