How the Dog Came to Be Pissed at Me

The backstory is that new kitty HATES Sonnyboy. So, if she can be outside, she will be outside, sometimes for a couple of days. I wish she’d just follow the orange cat’s lead and be a gruff, no shit-taking asshole that the dog is now curious about, but kind of afraid of, but it hasn’t worked out that way. Yet. Anyway. Who knows about cats? So, yesterday, I left the back door open a crack during the day, but blocked by the garbage can so that interior dogs could not then get outside, hoping she would come in the house quietly, not alert the dog, and get something to eat (this didn’t really work, because she’d obviously caught and killed something to eat earlier in the day and was wearing some of it on top of her head, as you do, and even I smelled her come in the house and I don’t have a dog nose. I mean, folks, she let me wash her head. With water.) and then I forgot about it. The back door.

So, I’m sitting on the couch, talking to my dad, when I hear some barking–not inside the house barking, though, so I discount it as being barking I need to pay attention to. Onward I chat with my dad. More barking.  Then I hear barking like someone has stuck his head back in the house and I’m all “Oh, shit, Dad. The dog is outside. I have to go.” Cue me running to the back door, through the garage, and outside where the dog is standing literally at the back door, barking out into the night.

He turns, slowly, and glares at me. He is super pissed. Did I not hear him barking for like five minutes? It was super important that I be outside five minutes ago helping him defend the house from… who knows?  A shadow? A passing cat? The ghost of whatever new kitty killed? But the danger has long passed. And I am a terrible person for leaving him to face it alone. He comes back in the house. Heads straight for the Butcher’s room and goes to sleep on his bed, even though the Butcher isn’t home yet, because he would rather hang out in the empty room of the person who would stand with him against monsters in the night than sleep on the couch while I read, because I suck.

I couldn’t even be mad at him for going outside because how pissed he was at me for not joining him was so funny.

This morning, of course, all is forgiven and the new kitty is snitting about on the front porch because the dog ignored her. So, you just can’t win with that cat.

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One thought on “How the Dog Came to Be Pissed at Me

  1. I just keep reading this and cracking up. If my dogs thought that I should check out everything they barked at they’d be pissed at me all the time.

    And cats, yeah whatever strikes their fancy…

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