I Found the End of the Lackey’s Rope

I knew from day one that the lackey was a push-over… or pull over or trip over. She’s got very little natural aggression and if there’s any growling between her and Dylan’s lackey, my lackey is the first one to back down. But every one has a rope and all ropes have an end somewhere – and I found the lackey’s first thing Sunday morning. I had spent all day Saturday at Dylan’s place. We had played chase for a bit then napped for a bit then had treats then napped some more. I barely noticed the lackey wasn’t there until tea time when I was ready for my next batch of crunchy munchies. Dylan’s lackey is a bit slacker when it comes to snapping to her doggy orders and we had small words but otherwise fine, then Dylan and I napped after that. Then I heard the unmistakable rhythm of the lackey’s car in the drive. I went ape-shit. I was SO happy to see my very own slave back in the house. The two lackey’s chatted for a bit – apparently the lackey had been somewhere and done something new and interesting but like I cared about that. We went home and straight to bed as the lackey was very tired. I woke her a few times during the dark just to make sure she was still there and remembered me. She did. At first light Sunday morning, I was so worried about being left with Dylan again for the day that I didn’t want to leave the lackey’s sight so when nature called, I answered – on the lackey’s bedroom carpet. She had woken up when I got off the bed and was suspicious straight away (there had been another peeing incident earlier in the week that now means that the lounge door is closed all the time whenever we are NOT watching telly). The lackey got out of bed and sniffed – Lucy, have you done something? She turned the light on and I knew I’d been caught red-bottomed. And here we are – right smack bang at the end of the lackey’s rope. She lost it. I knew I was in trouble as soon as she looked at me, so I gave her big puppy face but she didn’t buy it one bit. I was dragged off the end of the bed and my chin was shoved into the piss patch and a very loud, growling – did you do this? What could I do? I gave her more puppy soft eyes and dropped my shoulders in submission. She didn’t buy that either. I got half serve breakfast dumped into my bowl then me and the bowl were dumped into the laundry and the door was very, VERY firmly shut behind me. Sigh. I acknowledge it was my own stupid fault. The doggy door was open, I could have trotted outside, peed and got back inside without the lackey knowing if I had been soft and quiet about it. But I didn’t, I took the quick fix and it backfired spectacularly. So now I have a long road back to the other end of the lackey’s rope which I started last night by obeying the “Lucy, out for pee” command immediately. Really, a lady of my years should not have to be reminded when and where to piss.