Conversations With Small Dogs: Ignoring The Admiral

A roundish, nervous rat terrier sits on a crate/end-table near a window, looking agitated, barking occasionally. He is entangled in a rather damaged lace curtain that is still attached to its curtain rod above the window, and is apparently unable to move.

Me: Henry, what the…

Henry: IT’S A TRAP!

Me: How on earth did you even do this to yourself?

Henry: I TOLD YOU IT’S A TRAP!

Me: *sigh* OK, fine. Hold still, and I’ll get you out of it.

Henry: Be careful! You could get stuck, too! TRAP!

Me: [disentangling the dog] This is ridiculous. I can’t even see how you got stuck this way. Why did you wind yourself up in a curtain?

Henry: I didn’t! It just grabbed me, and when I tried to escape, it wrapped around me even tighter. What is it about TRAP that you don’t get, human? Why do you have these things hanging around? Are you crazy? Are you evil? Do you hate us? Are you going to eat us? ARE YOU GOING TO LET THE TRAP MONSTER EAT US?????

Buddy: [wandering in from another room, dragging his crate blanket along] Wait — who’s going to eat us?

Me: They are curtains. They are not traps. No, I am not going to eat you, and neither are the curtains. Just hold still, Henry, and you’ll be loose in a minute.

The small dog is freed, and everyone returns to their own business.

40 minutes later…

Henry: HELP! IT’S A TRAP!

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About L. M. Bernhardt

For a good long while (15 years or so), I taught philosophy at a little private university in northwest IA, and occasionally branched out into playing music, dabbling in photography, experimenting with food, and writing nonsense on my blog. The philosophy teaching part ended in 2017 (program elimination via prioritization), but never fear! I've just finished my MLIS at San Jose State University, and I'm currently on the market looking for new adventures in either philosophy or LIS. Otherwise, I labor to support my dogs in the lavish manner to which they've become accustomed.
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