This is the state of affairs at our house. Penny is the queen, I have just realized. It’s cold in this house, so I moved the space heater to warm my feet as I worked on the couch and not five minutes later does Penny Lane return to her spot. She sits on her bed, begrudgingly, and whines as she realizes that I actually don’t notice that she is desperately cold and in need of the space heater currently warming my digits and not her whole entire body.
“Seriously, Penny?”, I ask. Don’t worry, she doesn’t answer back nor do I expect her to. This is just how it goes when you spend way too much time with animals, I think. Penny Lane does not show emotion and so I believe she said, with those deep brown eyes of hers that see straight into your soul, “Yes”. It was probably sassier than that, I’m sure, but who really knows these things?
And so, Penny wins. Penny alllllways wins. I’m sorry, did I say “wins”? I meant whines. That’s how she wins, though, it’s her secret weapon. She hardly barks, but she’s a master at the art of whining and pacing around at the same time when she wants something. Usually to go out when it’s way too cold outside, so she can sniff the same planter for way too long and question the meaning of life. We, her humans, are not so entertained by this.
Anyway, so that’s Penny Lane. Penny Lane is the queen, this house is her throne and we are merely her servants. Her cold-footed servants.