A Klingon Named Trouble

Things have changed since our pack lost a member. The other two Klingons started to hang out with each other a little more.

Klingons at Work

Klingons at Work

It may not look like it, but this is amazing. These two never really snuggled up together before. They always snuggled up with their sister who left us, who was the Great Conciliator. I guess Klingons can change.

Believe it or not, Klingons actually do have different personalities. I’ve told you about the friendly one, the calico who just left us recently.

The other calico is a different story. She is the Klingoniest of all the Klingons. I already told you here about how she treated me at first. Things got better (see “Detente with Klingons”) but we still have conversations like this one.

ME: Bark! Bark! (Do you really need to occupy the whole staircase so that I can’t get around you?)

HER: Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh (Klingons rank higher than dogs, so you’ll just have to wait.)

ME: Bark! Bark! Bark! (Get out of the way you dumb Klingon!)

HER: Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh (Make me you stupid dog.)

ME: Bark! Bark! Bark! (I’m calling the humans to come and get you!)

HER: (as No. 2 picks her up): (Dang! I was winning.)

The humans have some funny name for this Klingon, but to me her name is Trouble.

Uh-oh. Get me out of here.

Uh-oh. Get me out of here.

Why is she Trouble? Let me count the ways.

Trouble on the Roof

Trouble on the Roof

Trouble in the Dresser

Trouble in the Dresser

Trouble Tries to Defenestrate

Trouble Tries to Defenestrate

Trouble Thinks She's Hiding

Trouble Thinks She's Hiding

But probably the worst, the very thickest travesty of all, was one time when I had a biscuit on the bed. I wasn’t quite ready to eat it yet, but I was keeping an eye on it, as a dog does.

The cheesy ones are one of my favorites.

The cheesy ones are one of my favorites.

Trouble approached my biscuit. Of course I acted instantly, moving to guard my treat against her evil intent. She did not care for my actions. In the ensuing tussle, the Klingon fetched me a good swat.

After that, No. 1 looked at me, hollered “Winky eye!” and took me to That Place. Dye was dripped into my eye and a strange black light shone on it. Yes, the Klingon had given me a scratch on the cornea.

Then I had to have goop squeezed into my eye twice a day for awhile. In my estimation, this whole incident was entirely unfair. When a dog has a biscuit, it’s sacrosanct. There’s no coveting it, there’s no approaching it… and when a dog defends his biscuit, where’s the fairness in attacking tender eyes with razor-sharp claws?

Despite all this, for some reason Trouble has stolen No. 2’s heart. Go figure! I guess some guys (not me) are just suckers for a pretty face.

Woofs,
Willie

Posted: August 10th, 2011 under What I have to put up with.

Comments

Comment from Toby
August 15, 2011 at 11:54 am

Hi Willie
Yeah man we’ve got two white ones. Ours like to run through the house saying “Come and get me!”. When I give chase I’m the one who gets told to stop!!

We like the picture of the klingon ‘hiding’ best. How clever was that?
Woofs
Toby (Your No 1 fan)

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