Stockholm Syndrome

Conversations between Mr. Taleteller, Lilac and me continue to be interesting around here.  On Monday morning (because Mondays aren't stressful enough), Lilac decided on a new game.  Apparently she's found a way to punish us for not responding to her demands pleas for help for some poor creature out in the well.

She woke Mr. Taleteller bright and early Monday morning before any rooster ever had a inkling of a dream about crowing.  By 4:15 the girls had all gone out, visited the powder room, sniffed at their breakfast and decided it was too early to eat anything.  Bunny and Blueberry both went back to bed.  They deserve some kind of sainthood.  They dutifully get up and go out, force some kind of deposit out in the pen and stumble back inside without a complaint every day.  Lilac would be completely lost out there in the pen by herself, but she follows their lead and is quite content with the knowledge that she's gotten everyone's day started. 

By the time I got up at 5:30, she was not a happy camper.  It is against the rules for everyone to go back to bed in Lilac's rulebook.  Often Blueberry will sleep out on the couch in the living room after they do early morning turn out, but on Monday, she decided her soft bed was still calling her.  Lilac had the living room to herself.  So, as I got up and came through the living room to get my morning water and give the Grande Dame her morning scratch, I noticed that someone had left a fresh poop deposit on the floor.  Hello, Monday!  Bunny has taken the heat for Lilac on this particular little infraction that occasionally happens for a long time, but I KNOW that the girls were asleep in the bedroom with us.  The kink in the back of my neck from the hour and fifteen minutes I slept with Bunny's foot wedged against me guarantees she was there!  Another greeting from Monday.  In any event, Lilac is completely unrepentant in the face of being caught in any infraction and always has been.

Me:  You were just outside!  Why did you poop in the floor?

Lilac:  Poop?  Who would do such a thing?

Me:  We both know you did it!

Lilac:  It was chilly outside this morning.  I was too clenched up to go!

Me:  You woke everyone up early and then you didn't even go potty out there?

Lilac:  Sometimes I change my mind.

Me:  You're lucky that we love you!

So, after a shortened morning scratch session, I go into the bathroom and start getting ready.  While I was in there, I heard Lilac start barking.  I think it was something about a fire, but it's hard to hear over the running water.  I figured it would keep until I got out of the shower.  Twenty minutes later, I heard Mr. Taleteller get up, just as I was finishing my shower. 

When I opened the bathroom door, he marched in grumbling and got some toilet paper.   A few moments later, he flushed Lilac's second gift of the morning down the toilet.  I looked at him, feeling a little surprised.  I was hesitant to bring it up, though, since Mr. Taleteller is not a Monday morning person, he was up early for a meeting, and because when these small accidents happen, he's less than charming.  Not that I'd trade him, mind you, but there are times to talk and times to be quiet. 

Me:  Did she go in there?

Mr. Taleteller:  (in a grumbling voice, accompanied by a small amount of smoke coming from his nostrils) Yes!  I swear!  She was JUST OUT!  (that last sentence spoken with a glare in Lilac's direction)  And I know it was her!  She's the only one who goes crop dusting style!

Lilac:  (laying on the orthopedic dog bed nonchalantly)  Were you saying something?  I'm old!  I don't hear so well...  I did yell "Fire in the pooperhole" but nobody got up.

Me:  She had an accident in there this morning before I got up, too.

Lilac:  Tee hee!  An accident means it was unplanned!

Me:  It better NOT have been planned!

Lilac:  Could someone fluff my pillow please?

Monday went on in a typical Monday fashion.  I honestly wish I could have slept through it.  Sure enough, I got home and was welcomed back by three dancing greyhounds and yet another special present from the Monday gods and Lilac.  I took the girls outside, flushed said gift down the toilet and got their food.  I brought the girls back inside and finally had time to sit down and relax for a little bit before dog obedience class. 

After we returned home, we both sat down to just unwind a little.  Bunny was happy with the arrangement and curled up with me on the couch.  Blueberry was happy with the arrangement and fluffed her dog bed over beside Mr. Taleteller's chair and leaned against him.  Lilac, of course, had other ideas.  She went up to Mr. Taleteller and let him know that she thought a bathroom break was in order.

Mr. Taleteller:  Lilac, it's too early and I just sat down!

Lilac:  I said dance, cowboy, and take me out!

Mr. Taleteller:  You can wait a little bit!

Lilac:  My pooperhole is tingling!  (She then straightened her tail straight out behind her and began to squint her eyes.)

Mr. Taleteller:  Alright!  Alright!  I don't need to hear about your pooperhole! 

Lilac:  Everybody's got one, and mine is tingling!

Me:  (helplessly giggling on the couch at the earnest expression she gives him)

Mr. Taleteller:  I said alright!  Girls, let's go potty!

Bunny and Blueberry dutifully marshall to the back door as Lilac takes her sweet time getting there.  Mr. Taleteller takes them out and returns inside with them a few minutes later.  Everyone gets her cookie and heads to the living room to eat. 

That's when the realization hit me.  Lilac, mastermind that she is, planned out the whole thing to get us to take her more seriously.  It was all part of the plan to get us to jump when she barks.  As further proof of that, the rest of this week has been fine as long as we've listened to her demands.  I never thought I'd be held hostage in my own home by a pooperhole, and yet I still love her!  It must be Stockholm Syndrome.