My Bonny lies over and over

By the time a dog reaches six years of age, shouldn’t she have developed at least a modicum of integrity? Of honesty?

So why does my Bonny carry deceit and cunning to a level that would make a cat blush?

Take last week. Bedtime.

My husband and dog had beaten me there: the former on his side of the bed where he belongs, the latter on my pillow where she doesn’t.

I told her to move and she declined with a growl. 

Not a ‘watch out or I’ll take a nibble’ growl so much as an ‘I was here first’ grousing. 

I nudged her off and changed the pillowcase. 

She grumbled the entire time but I am bigger and have opposable thumbs and ‘convinced’ her.

I took my rightful place on the pillow and slept.

Two hours later Bonny startled me awake when she leapt from the bed and stood quivering at the top of the stairs, 

a ‘Who goes there?’ growl percolating in her throat. 

I tiptoed after her, heart a-thumping, turned on the hall light and followed her fixed gaze down the steps. Nothing.

I looked down to ask what she had heard and–she was gone.

I found her on my pillow, eyes squeezed shut and fake-snoring.

I shoved her over (again) ignored her mumblings (again) and changed my pillowcase (again).

In the wee hours of the morning I woke to her whimpering at the bedroom door.

Bonny weighs 14 pounds. 10 of that is bladder. We have not yet determined how long she can hold it, and I couldn’t remember when we had last let her out. When a dog of that bladder capacity says she has to go, you don’t question. You just hold open the door.

I did, then grabbed my robe and headed for the steps, watching my feet to make sure I didn’t trip over a dog trying to hold her 4 legs together.

She wan’t there.

I looked at my pillow.There was the Queen of Deceit, deja vu mingled with smugness all over her fluffy fibbing face.

I blame myself. The little deceptions that were so cute when she was a puppy have mushroomed into a shameless furry package of whopping falsehoods.

If you ever visit with Bonny, I warn you. 

Take everything she tells you with a grain of salt.

And watch your pillow.