“RI’me Roarrry.”

Panda was bored. This isn’t a good thing. Think of a steam locomotive that keeps getting coal shoveled in to it with no pressure release. It’s just sitting there in the station, bulging, making strange noises, ready to blow. Likewise, if Panda doesn’t get something to entertain herself with, she’ll explode and quite possibly take out the whole county. It could happen. I’m her master, and with great power comes great responsibility (someone should put that in a movie). I couldn’t bring myself to giving her “Mr. Squeaky” ball, or what we refer to as “Freaky”. Freaky is a ball like deal that makes all kinds of weird animal noises, and she accompanies them with truly strange howls and yelps and other noises I can’t really explain. After about 15 minutes of either of those two options, I’m the one about ready to explode. So I chose what I thought to be a safe alternative, the “indestructible” bone I bought her a couple of months ago. She’s destroyed about a third of it to date, and I receive hate email from dog bone scientists and engineers voicing their displeasure. They are NOT happy. So I hand Panda the bone, and in her excitement she clamps a tooth down directly in the middle of my thumbnail. Yeah, it hurt. “Ouch girl, you got me there!” I could tell by her expression that she truly felt bad. I told her, “that’s OK, you’re a good girl, I step on your tail and paws on accident sometimes and you forgive me.” The bone is still in her mouth. She laid at my feet, dropped the bone, and put her head down. I really didn’t think much about it at the time. She stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and then stood up on the side of my chair and literally licked just the thumb she had bitten. “It’s OK girl, you’re a good girl.” She wagged her tail, grabbed her bone, and continued her mission to destroy the indestructible. It’s truly amazing to me how complex a pet’s feelings can be, especially towards their owners. I have a sweet, thoughtful, and caring little pooch. She’s my buddy!