I popped some popcorn the other night for a relaxing evening of home theater. Not microwave, mind you, and not hot air popped, but good old fashioned oil-in-a-pan-dumped-into-a-paper-grocery-bag-slathered-in-butter-and-salt popcorn. It’s as delicious as it is deadly! I always pop way more than I can actually eat, of course, as even the thought of running out before the end of a movie is enough to reduce me to a sobbing shell of a human being.
Well, the movie was fine, the popcorn sublime, and, after rolling closed the bag and placing it on the dining room table, Indy and I repaired to the bedroom for a night of sound slumber. The next day, as I prepared to leave for
Above: ummm … why yes, I AM still working on cataloging my CDs!
Technically speaking, of course, she abided by my directive. What am I to make of this? Is it an indication of improvement in her behavior? Is she actually showing intent in becoming a "good" dog? Might there come a time when I will be able take a shower without hoisting the garbage can up near the ceiling like a backpacker’s food in Glacier National Park?
Oh, that I could bring myself to believe that.
The more likely explanation is that she’s taking her passive-aggressiveness to a new level of annoyance. She’s been following some of the labor union stories in the news, and I suspect she’s picked up on the concept of “work-to-rule” actions, in which union members “strictly observe the employer’s rulebook” in order to … well, in order to fuck with said employer.
I’m sure you can understand my concern over this new development. She shows no signs of aging, or of any vulnerability at all, really … neither chocolate, nor chicken bones, nor barbiturates and alcohol mixed in with her food have had any effect … she seems mystefyingly impervious to traditional canine dangers. If she really has adopted this “annoyance by adherence” strategy in our ongoing battle of wits, I fear for my sanity. The war may be lost.
* French for "raisons of ether," a light and tasty fruit snack akin to trail mix.