Fickle! Fie!

So my elder offspring arrived for Mother's Day weekend. While I was, of course, thrilled to see her, meeting her in the driveway to help her with her luggage, my hugs were nothing considered to the dog's. On the other side of the back yard fence, the canine child tried her best to jump the gate, all the while moaning as if in extreme ecstasies. Upon opening the gate for the fickle critter, I was shoved aside as she leaped, twirled, and generally carried on like an abused child being rescued, licking and pawing her true love. My human child, of course, reciprocated in kind, and the two of them blurred together in this love fest.

Isn't that how it goes? Sigh. Those who feed, water, walk, pet, cuddle, and make adoring noises on a daily basis get ignored. Yes, from the moment she arrived home, my elder child has had a canine bed mate, foot warmer, and general factotum. What am I, chopped liver? Nothing that wonderful, it seems. Another big sigh from my lonely corner. Now I know MY place in the pecking order.

Wait until the four-footed princess wants an extra treat or a longer walk.