So it's not just my little guy who makes a big deal out of it!
Rocky
had his teeth cleaned today, and they also cut out a fleshy
growth from
between his front teeth. When they brought him out, he
ran up to DH all
happy and wiggly and when he sees me he slowly and
gingerly hobbles over
to me, letting loose a most pitiful whine. So
up he goes, into my arms and
inside my jacket, where he hangs his
mouth open and half closes his eyes.
We get home and I sit with him
a while. I get up to go into the bathroom
and through the door I
hear this gawd-awful wimpering. He's right outside
the door and
when I come out, he's shaking like a leaf and almost crawling
on the
floor. I tell him how sorry I am for him and hold him longer,
kissing his little round head and telling him how good he is. I
leave
him once more wrapped in his blanky and while I'm out of
sight, he hears
something and barks like a vicious watchdog, ears up
and as proud as he
can be. He sees me watching him and immediately
reverts back to the
trembling, moaning, pitiable creature he's been
reduced to. See, they gave
him post-op pain meds so I know his
game. When I'm not around, he's the
brave, tough boy he always is.
He sees mama and it's all "poor me" and "I
feel so sorry for
myself." I know I'm being played like a violin and I
gladly fall
for the act. I'm especially susceptible this time, because I'm
feeling very guilty about it. You see, it's his birthday
today.
