In My Own Voice #38: Et tu, Suzanne?

Stabbed in the back. You think you have friends. You think you have allies. You feel safe, confidant, relaxed, and then this…BETRAYAL, practically on your own doorstep.

The Woman and I go for many, many walks. We invite friends to join us. Keeps things fresh. It’s nice to be social. One Believes one is creating trust, safety. 

But last week I learned it was all a façade. Even those you think you know well have deceit in their heart.

Let me set the scene.

We had returned from our walk and were dropping off our friend at her home. The two Women were chatting.

After a while, my stomach reminded me that the follow up to a walk is not supposed to be an extended parley. No. The follow up is a meal. And the particular meal that I would, hopefully, be enjoying involves some very tasty food from a can. 

Not wanting to interrupt them, I got up and started sniffing around. As I was sniffing, I took a few steps closer to the gate and our exit from the yard. Now, let me be clear, there were some very good sniffs that I had missed before. I was hardly FAKE sniffing. It was the REAL DEAL. I was getting a lot of good information and was leaving my mark, as needed.

I will not deny that I was also aware that if I kept, gradually mind you, moving in the direction of the exit, we would be on our way home and to that lovely breakfast sooner rather than later.

But, although I had a PLAN, there was nothing DECEITFUL or UNDERHANDED in what I was doing.

Zigging and zagging across the yard, I oh-so-gradually pulled my Woman behind me. After all, she was holding the leash.

You can imagine my CHAGRIN when, having finally achieved the exit, with both of us safely out of the yard and almost home, I heard LAUGHTER.

Thinking back on the words coming from my so-called friend’s mouth, I was HORRIFIED to realize that she had been sharing my strategy with my Woman. And, now, the two were laughing at moi!

We did get home. Breakfast was oh so sweet. Luckily for her, I’m a live life in the moment kind of guy so although the pain is acute, I probably won’t remember it the next time I see her. 

Note: 

Many thanks to Suzanne, whose on point Pettigrew whispering is the basis for this blog. I was totally oblivious to how my fine furry friend was manipulating me.

And Pettigrew, even though I’m now on to your wily ways, you’ll probably be able to use them again. Like you, I live in the moment.