Are we all here? Good.
I have summoned you both to discuss a serious lapse in protocal. Yesterday afternoon, as you may remember, the back door was open. I took advantage of the situation to patrol the yard and check for new and interesting smells. For your information, a possum has been in the hibiscus again. Same one as yesterday. The nerve! In my yard!
Anyway, after I finished making my rounds, I strolled back to the doorway. And what do you suppose I found? The door was closed, that’s what! I was locked out. Your precious Little Belle—separated from her pack. Abandoned to the cruel mercies of the wilderness and savage possums.
I stood by the door for long hours, vainly hoping for a rescue. Well, maybe it was minutes, but who can tell? Agony has no timekeeper. Where, oh were, were my pack members? Could it possibly be that you were unaware I was missing?
Didn’t you hear my piteous wails?
Finally Harry opened the door and let me in. And what do I get? Tearful apologies? Abject promises to do better? No! Merely an “Oh, there you are, “ and a scratch on the chest. Not adequate, people.
Am I or am I not a Treasured Pack Member? No, look me in the eye. Am I a Treasured Pack Member? That’s better. And what is your duty to a TPM?
Constant Vigilance. That is your duty. Never let a cute little dog such as me suffer alone and friendless in the cold and—okay, okay, I know it wasn’t really cold. Don’t interrupt. I’m making a point here.
Never treat a TPM in such a cavalier way. You are both on probation until further notice.
Ta for now,