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I Got No Sympathy For My Hip Dysplasia!

Remember those old TV shows like Father Knows Best or Leave it to Beaver? Remember how the errant son or daughter was always admonished with the threat, “Wait until your father gets home!”. Well, I’ll just wait until my master gets home! I got no sympathy for my hip dysplasia when I was left home alone with my master’s friend.

My master had to go to the office and he left me at home alone with his friend who decided to clean my room before the cable man came to install the new cable for my master’s computer. Well, maybe “my room” isn’t entirely true since I let my master share it. After all, his bed is in my room too so I’m content to let him think it’s his bedroom if that makes him happy.

Anyway, I was resting comfortably on my Canine Cooler Bed, happily dreaming of a bowl full of yummy Milkbones, when this friend rudely awakened me and told me to get up off my cozy bed. He hauled my bed out to the living room and told me to go lie on it there. The nerve! Who did he think he was anyway. He knew I had hip dysplasia and was taking Winston’s Joint System to support me in being more mobile, but he had no sympathy at all for me. Just because I didn’t appear to have hip joint problems anymore didn’t mean that he could just push me around like I was a dog. Oh, I almost forgot – I am a dog. Well… I meant push me around like I was a nobody. Me, the assistant master of the house after all.

I skulked back into my room, ignoring this rude person, and laid down on the floor. I was once again ordered to get out of the bedroom and go lie on my bed in the living room. I was going to stand my ground and refuse to depart “my room” but he turned on that vacuum machine that makes such an infernal racket and that did it. I hate that noise, so I left the room and went to the living room to lie on my bed.

I was NOT happy with being banished from my own room. The more I thought about it the more incensed I became. Every time this friend walked past me to go to the kitchen or other room, I gave him nasty looks. Each time he went by me I managed to look more perturbed. I didn’t shed any tears because that would have been a sign of weakness and I was not about to let this person get the upper hand on me. Since this person didn’t seem to understand my low-throated growls, I had to resort to expressions of severe displeasure. I gave him various looks that meant “Just wait until my master comes home. I’m going to tell on you!”.

After about an hour I had won the war. He came and moved me and my Canine Cooler Bed back into my room. I had won! I knew if I gave him enough callous looks he’d see things my way and move me back into my room.

When my master returned home I did my best to let him know that I had suffered indignities at the hands of his friend. He seemed to get the message and spent a lot of time (not enough, however!) petting me and saying nice things. When his friend came into the room I gave the guy the meanest looks I could conjure up. My master noticed and asked his friend what had happened to make me so hostile toward him. Boy, was I pleased. I had tried to warn the guy I was going to tell on him and now my threat came true. I wanted to prance around the room, exalting in my victory but I decided that might be a little too obvious. I was content to be fed treats and be petted and let bygones be bygones.

But let this be a warning to you, Mr. Friend – next time you kick me out of my room and move my bed, I have plans for you that you aren’t going to like!



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