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May 11th. On guard.

Hergest, says the Owner, why are you sleeping there?

Because the Owner, in her Wisdom, has seen fit to banish me from the Bed, I say.

What is wrong with your Cushion? Asks the Owner.

There is nothing wrong with my Cushion, I say. It is a Perfect Cushion, even though it is clearly designed for Dogs and therefore does not have the Excellent Springing and delightful cotton counterpane of the Bed. Or at least, the bed as I remember it. The Memory is faded.

Why are you not on your Cushion, then? Asks the Owner.

I do not wish to say, I say.

I think you do, says the Owner.

If you are referring to my previously expressed view that the Cushion is representative  of the Generations-Long Oppression of the Bed-Denied Moral Dog, I say, I would not dream of mentioning it.

That is good, says the Owner, since it is a perfectly excellent Cushion.

Indeed, I say. A Mere Dog can hope for no more, I say.

Have you been talking to Jeremy the Beagle again? Asks the Owner.

Certainly not, I say, I am merely reflecting on our Relative levels of Control.

What does that mean? Asks the Owner.

I am reflecting that, despite our Morally Equal Partnership, only One of us decides Whose Bed is Whose, I say. Since you asked, I say.

Is that All? Asks the Owner.

Funnily enough, I say, and thinking entirely Tangentially and Off the Cuff, it is also true that only one of us is considered Wise Enough to decide when it is Time for a Lolly. Only one of us can be relied upon to act as the Arbiter of when the Freezer can be opened, and when it cannot.

Indeed, says the Owner, I wondered if those entirely Tangential and Off the Cuff thoughts bore any relationship to the fact that you have chosen to sleep Right in Front of the Freezer.

Gosh, am I sleeping Right in Front of the Freezer? I ask. I hadn’t noticed, I say.

Your Andie McDowell impression does not impress me, says the Owner. One might, if of a more suspicious turn of mind than myself, suspect the Moral Dog of lying there purely to make sure that you will be woken every time I open the Freezer, just in case I should attempt to eat a Lolly without you.

I cannot imagine that my own Owner would harbour such suspicions, I say.

No, says the Owner, indeed.

How does she know?

 

 

 

 

Categories: dignity dog dog philosophy lolly Uncategorized

Hergest the Hound

I am a dog of many thoughts.

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