Wednesday, April 28, 2010
I happened to be standing in the kitchen the other night, holding a morsel of cheese, when lo and behold Funnyface appeared, waving his plumy tail and smiling ingratiatingly at me. At least, I think it was a smile; at any rate, all of his teeth were showing.
Determined to make him earn his nibble, I commanded him to sit in my sternest voice (if I have learned anything about German Shepherds, it's that one does not ask them to do anything. One tells them, preferably in tones that would stop a combat infantry patrol in its tracks).
“Sit!” quoth I, again.
Still nothing. “SIT!”
At this point in the proceedings, the spousal unit wandered in, looked at the dog and snapped his fingers. Once. Funnyface immediately sat down.
Me: Do you know how irritating that is?