Posted 11-13-2003 at 20:39:47
[Reply] [No Email]
I let Elvis in today. It was a little hot out, I knew he would appreciate it, but his blanket, the one that marks his special place in the hallway by the air conditioner intake vent, was in the wash. So I improvised. I made a bed of sorts out of a mound of dirty linens that were waiting on the floor to go into the washer, and then I stepped back.
"There you go, bud."
Elvis eyed the dirty laundry and then cocked his head and gazed up at me.
"You want me to lay THERE?"
"Huh?" I glanced down at the bed I had made, fluffed it a little more. "What's wrong with it? Go ahead and lay down."
Instead of laying down he sat down and stared at the impromptu bed.
"Don't tell me you're going to get picky now. For Chrissakes Elvis, you lay in the dirt half the time!"
I did some more fluffing and arranging.
"Now, you either lay down there, or you go your butt back outside. It's up to you." I was done trying to appease him. He leaned around and looked into the hallway, trying to see around the corner to where his usual spot was, and I lost my temper.
"Fine!" I said.
I reached for the door knob, and quick as a snap he scooted over to new bed and started his circling routine. He made a point of making five circles instead of three, going as slow as a dog can go, letting me know that he was going to lay there, but he by God wasn't happy about it.
I had to run to the seven mile point store, the one that's only a mile from the house to get my Dr Pepper fix. I couldn't have been gone twenty minutes. I walked back into the house and found the trash from the kitchen trash can scattered all over the kitchen floor and one very guilty looking old dog laying on the dirty laundry with his back to me.
"Well you back sliding old fart. You haven't done that since you were a puppy. Well, you know the punishment, out you go."
He stood up, shook himself, lifted his head and his tail and positively sauntered across the room, pausing once to stretch. Then with one last glance up at me, he trotted through the door, sighed, and lay down on the back porch. No circles.
He knew he was being punished, but I too knew that I had been punished just as effectively. Make me lay in the dirty laundry, huh, treat me like trash, I'll show you trash, that last glance had said.
I cleaned up the trash grumbling and mumbling to myself. A little while later the dryer dinged to let me know that the load was done. I went out to the back porch and began removing items from the dryer. Among those items was Elvis's blanket. The minute he saw it he sprang to his feet, his tongue bobbing in and out, his eyes full of dialogue.
"I'll forgive you for making me lay in the dirty clothes if you'll forgive me for making a mess."
I had to laugh at him.
"Okay, come on."
I spread his blanket while he watched, his tail thumping the floor. I guess even an old dog who has questionable hygeine, more than a flea or two, and does lay in the dirt when the spirit moves him, has his standards, and laying in the dirty laundry is not among them.