El Burro Volador

It is happening again.  ‘Bekah is being tapped by an over-protective dog owner to dogsit overnight, leaving me lost, lorn and lonely.  I always feel abandoned when ‘Bekah has to sleep over at her charge’s place, which means that she will be home somewhere between seldom and never for the duration – in this case through Saturday.  What makes it even worse this time is that it is Merlyn’s dog Z’nah that ‘Bekah is dogsitting.  Z’nah!  That dog has more native intelligence, common sense, and responsibility than most latch-key kids!  Merlyn could probably just leave her his credit card and have her check herself into a hotel, where she would sit, quietly watching Telemundo to improve her Spanish when not preparing her own meals or going outside to potty.  This is the dog that ‘Bekah insists must be attended at all times, even if it means that me and Clementine must be left unsupervised.  Clementine!  Me!  With nobody watching us!  Last time this happened I was reduced to a state of howling savagery, roaming the neighborhood in makeshift garments composed of discarded bathroom mats and paper grocery bags and foraging for food – which has gotten a good deal harder now that Ella May has stopped leaving pies out on her windowsill to cool.  Clementine, meanwhile, had taken my wallet and clothes and disappeared for nearly the entire time ‘Bekah was gone, losing both before staggering through the front door in the wee hours of the morning smelling of cured meats and debauchery.

This is just an awful situation, just awful.  I certainly hope you are happy, Z’nah, you homewrecker.