The Matron understands that she must be paying some karmic debt. Frances from first grade? Yes, Wee Miss was soooo jealous of your apparently perfect life that even though she KNEW that Jason -- not you -- threw the pickle in the mashed potatoes, Wee Miss said not one word when the lunch lady made you, not Jason, stand in the corner.
As an adult, Young Miss and later the Matron has coveted yet again. Lotsa stuff.
She's sure that envy is at the root of her current Situation because every day, when she sees happy people walking their dogs--smiling, sane sorts who dangle leashes after dogs happily padding and panting--she experiences white flashes of jealously. She wants that dog!
Morever, she wants to know why God-Oprah-Allah-Buddha-Universe saddled her with this.
Let's consider today's fun with Satan's Familiar (he has a given name but it is bad luck to utter or type).
First, last night, his delicate bowel structure required night-time elimination. No, he didn't wake anyone to go outside. He eliminated in the hallway. His return to Scarlett's bed required nudging the daughter awake in order to be allowed back in UNDER the covers at her feet, where he returned.
But Scarlett now could not sleep and she called out to her mother, who tiptoed, bare of foot, into the hallway.
Be damned Oh Cloven One! Why hath thou darkened her bright door? Was it the time she sat on the swing just before Bethany Rogers got there?
In the morning, S. F. and Jekyll were given their separate bowls of food. The minute the Matronly back turned, the hench men thrust his snout in the geriatric dog's dish and started gobbling until the Matron threw him back to his own chow.
Done? Off that dog ran to find some shoes, purses, or expensive clothing to chew.
While the children were at school, the Matron thought the house oddly quiet. She went into the kitchen to find that damn dog --- calmly, happily, sitting ON the kitchen table, looking out the window. With the loaf of bread from breakfast half-eaten, at his leisurely side.
Because Satan's Familiar's eating disorder means that he has gone from 14 lbs to 100 during his two years of Matronly torture, she took him with her on her four mile run. This meant he would stop, dead and without warning, directly in front of her for no reason whatsoever about ONE MILLION times to test her hurdle skills. When the gymnastics bored him, he ran through the weeds and came out, cowering, in an equal number of burs.
Which the Matron had to pause - for a very long time- her run to remove, one by one.
If the Matron wasn't sick of Satan by now, this evening, Merrick decided to put the dog in the lovely nylon and canvas portable kennel that the Matron bought for Grandma Mary.
Satan's Familiar ate his way out. Oh, he's a keeper. He didn't just chew one exit hole, but ripped the thing apart at its seams in three different places.
Doesn't he look sweet?
Right now, he's snuggled at Stryker's feet, deep under the covers. The children, souls long sold, have a bitter, competitive rotation, in which each will bribe, bargain and beg for one extra night with Satan.
Who will undoubtedly demand night time elimination, after eating four bowls of food the neighbors left on their porch for the feral cats. Check in about 3 am for the fetid update.