Melissa Charles author

Today was the day. The Husband and two of the Minions headed off to Montreal to see the Rush concert.

(In case you missed how this all happened, I mentioned our plotting here)

The house is oddly quiet, but not.

Our Boston Terrier, Lilo, is definitely out of sorts. See, I’m what’s often referred to as the ‘spare human’ as far as the dog is concerned. She is slavishly devoted to my husband and our youngest daughter. Honestly, it borders on the ridiculous, because Lilo is also a petty, jealous animal.

No, I’m not kidding.

I’ve watched this dog ignore my husband, keeping her back to him, because he dared to snuggle with the cat. Or me. She’s sat and sulked to punish her favourite Minion for daring to live away during the school year for college.

So when I say this dog is petty, I mean that we should rename her Betty. And be glad that she doesn’t have thumbs or the ability to plot revenge.

But as I mentioned, she’s absolutely devoted to her preferred humans, and has taken up keeping watch for their return.

Watching the driveway:

Waiting at the door:

Lucky for everyone, Lilo is also a dog of very little brain. I’ve described her before as having two brain cells that are constantly fighting for third place. This means she’s easily distracted by the remaining Minions taking her for walks and tossing toys for her.

She just sighs and looks absolutely pathetic from time to time. She’s even graced me with her presence during daylight hours and has stuck close to my office chair, letting out a groan from time to time in order to ensure that I’m aware of her abject suffering.

Normally, she only hangs out with me once everyone else is asleep. Then, she’s plastered against me on the couch, insisting on physical contact while she snoozes. But the nanosecond she hears footsteps on the stairs, she jumps up and goes to the opposite end of the couch as if worried about being caught cheating.

As I said, the dog is ridiculous. Hilariously so.

Our youngest child, however, is unapologetically living their best life. They immediately took over Dad’s spot on the couch and called absolute dibs over the TV.

This includes a bag of chips, the nightly chapter read aloud of the book we’re currently working on (Dog Man: Big Jim Believes: A Graphic Novel, if anyone’s interested) and a Shirley Temple with extra maraschino cherries.

And me?

I’m off to snuggle with a petty dog.