Hey! That piece is important!
“Whimper. Whine. WoOOoooe!” is me.
My Girlpup doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation. “You big baby. That didn’t hurt.” The door in her mind is closed, she’s shutting me out—she doesn’t have a clue.
I look up at Auntie Heather and plead for her to stop.
Instead, she quickly cuts the rest on that paw, claw bits flying around like June bugs. June bugs aren’t tasty treats. She finishes that paw and doesn’t even give me break before she does another one. And another one. And another one. I really hope that’s the last one. She puts down the clippers. Yup, that was.
Fine, hope you’re happy. Since I was an excellent dog, you may give me a treat.
She tosses some popcorn at me. It’s dry, no salt or butter. What the…sigh…The Diet.
I eat them anyway. Who knows if I’ll ever be fed again?