The enemy box

Just so you know, I see that suitcase there.  I see it and I’m not happy about it.  I know what that empty box means.  I’ve soused it out. I’m no spring chicken.  I’ve been around the airport terminal a time or two.  I know what happens when you promise you’ll be right back as you lug that wheeled box behind you.  Liar! Liar! You’re not right back! You’re back eventually, days later, all smiley and missing me and what do you bring me?  Nothing! Just hugs and kisses and lots of snuggles.  Well let me tell you missy that just isn’t going to cut it this time.  I’m putting my paw done. 

I tried peeing on your backpack once, but that didn’t stop you from trotting off to Canada.  I’ve moped, sulked, given you puppy eyes, and attempted to hide inside the enemy box, all with no success.  Well I just want you to know I’m on to you.  You think you can leave the suitcase out for a week in a kind of reverse psychology and then I won’t be as upset when you board that strange bird that flies you away? No! give me a little credit here.  I’m a smart puppy and this time I’m gonna outsmart you…

I haven’t necessarily figured out how but just know I’m working on it so don’t get any ideas about “being right back”….

What? What’s that you say? Ooohh, I’m coming with you??

Never mind…

(a la gilda radner)