December 5, 2007

White Dog's reserve of understanding ran out about midday. She had reached her fill of being ignored as I sat at the stupid computer doing incomprehensible school stuff. And so the quest for attention began--positive or negative, it mattered not. Shredded tree bark on the bed; constant demands for treat trades; jumping on my mousing arm and scratching until I feared for my shirt sleeve--all done with the silent cry, "Be with me!" Guiltily I finished what I needed to and have spent all evening trying to atone to White Dog.