Trust: a charge or duty imposed in faith or confidence or as a condition of some relationship.
Granted, our lab, Queenie, is just a dog. But I’ve always felt we have something special, she and I. A kind of human-dog, homo sapien-canine, owner-pet understanding that few others ever have. In fact, I think of her as a person. We can talk about anything.
I tell her about my day or gripe to her when I have a problem. She always listens intently without being judgmental or interrupting me with unsolicited advice. Then it’s her turn. She growls about her day, like how many squirrels she chased, number of butts sniffed, what bushes were peed on, or how much deer poop she’s eaten, you know, all that charming dog stuff.
So, it goes without saying that we have a high level of trust in each other. I know she will be there to bark before some stranger even gets to the door. I can count on that wake-up call at 6 AM in the morning, even when I don’t put one in. I can count on a cold, wet nose nudging my arm if I forget about nightly “treat” time. She will put complete trust in me that she will always have water in the bowl, a comfy bed and will get to ride around town on errands. She trusts that my wife, Patty, will prepare her breakfast and dinner every day. Here again, the trust thing.
Complete and utter trust. That’s why what happened this morning was so totally unexpected. I had gotten up early (6:00 am – go figure), taken her out and since Patty was sleeping in, I fed her breakfast. It was a beautiful morning so I wanted to go out to the local jogging trail for my morning exercise. I exited quietly so as not to awaken Patty. When I returned, Patty, now arisen, said she and Queenie had just had a nice little walk and enjoyed breakfast together. “Breakfast”?, I asked. Yes, the Q dog had managed to wrangle another breakfast without saying a word about her earlier repast. When confronted about this deceit, the look said it all.
Oh, we’ll still be the closest of buddies. We’ll still tell each other about our day. We’ll still run errands together and there will always be that treat time. But trust? Let’s just say we’ll be working on that for a while. In the meantime, I’ll be sure to leave a note.
The Cvillean 
Wilson & Peter have the same utterly devoted symbiotic relationship, except when it comes to cheese straws. I’m not sure if you have cheese straws in the US, they are about 8 inch long, 1 inch wide pieces of puff pastry baked with cheese and salt and probably oil in a twist. Delicious and with zero nutritional value.
One day on his way home Peter bought himself a cheese straw, and a little treat for Wilson. He then pulled into a Garage for some diesel, and Wilson promised to mind the Land Rover.
Peter jumped into his truck after refuelling & grabbed his coffee & the bag of treats, only to find the delicious cheese straw AND Wilson’s treat had vanished.
Wilson has NOT been forgiven. The word cheese straw always brings on a very meaningful look in Wilson’s direction.
Wilson on the other hand has admitted nothing
I love this story!. I have great empathy for Peter. Just one look from those forlorn eyes though and I’m toast. Again, Wilson rules!
Wilson is still number 1 in Peter’s eyes. He also never mentions DIY or shopping! Just not when t comes to cheese straws
Loved this! We had a wonderful yellow lab named Abby I blogged about once. Gotta love them, deceit and all!
She is definitely free entertainment, Susan. One of these days I hope to be the Alpha….but, alas.
Never trust a dog when it comes to food. Never! But from my experience, they will shine a guilty look at you to let you know they double-dipped…after the fact. Whoever said dogs can’t think or show emotions never had a relationship with a Queenie or a Scrappy!
Absolutely, Lorna. Besides humans they are the only other animal that truly show emotions, with the possible exception of apes. Oh wait, I already mentioned humans.
There’s simply no trust when it comes to food. I should know, having stolen the food from my children’s plates more than once.
I think you should meet my wife. She has been purloining food from my plate ever since we were first married. Especially the dessert portions.
I coerce David into ordering the dessert, David says he doesn’t want it, and I am forced to eat it.
Oh Al, you couldn’t expect her to miss an opportunity did you?
I think you would be wise to leave a note in the future. Perhaps Queenie tried to tell Patty, but Patty didn’t understand. Give her the benefit of the doubt. 🙂
I knew you would take her side, Jodi!
My dogs won’t eat one breakfast, let alone two. I lie. Peaches, the old dog, will eat her’s and everyone else’s breakfast. Johnny my young boy dog would rather eat the suet the squirrel knocked off the bird feeder or the fox poop he finds in the shrubs. Queenie shows you once again, girls are smarter than boys. but you knew that.
Yes, I certainly did. But way too late.
That is one highly intelligent Queenie…a mastermind of cunning..getting two breakfasts I reckon she thought that she had won the lottery! Well done Queenie!
I love her name..My Mum was Queenie too and she was just as lovely
Mastermind of cunning….I like that. That way I don’t look so dumb.
Queenie the guilty dog…just like Denver, the other yellow lab, who now has his own facebook page. and is famous for his “look”! But I imagine Q won’t be going into the penalty box. Thanks for the great story…sure do love Queenie.
Yes, I’ve seen Denver….hilarious. I couldn’t possibly keep a straight face long enough to send Q to the “box”.
Duped by a canine, huh? It happens to the most intelligent humans. If you haven’t seen the video, go to You Tube and watch Denver the guilty dog. And remember that Queenie continues to keep your secrets, whether they be midnight donuts or changing the channel to the ball game while Patty is in the kitchen fixing you a snack during a romantic comedy. Ha.
Well, apparently she’s told you! More trust issues!