White Dog is my daemon, the connection between earthly me and the divine. We share a soul. But we also share quite a few personality traits. Like determination...ok, I won't dress it up...like stubbornness.
Sometimes my interactions with the Little White Dog of My Heart give me pause and I flashback to MY childhood crossed arm flashing eyes confrontations with MY mom.
This morning Steve served breakfast. As usual Her Highness was served next to the pillows on the couch. She prefers to dine above the others where her food is less likely to be threatened and she does not have to mingle. WD ignored the bowl and looked pointedly at my blackberry toast with bacon side.
"Not this morning, Sweet Girl, you must eat your breakfast," I told her. I saw the look come down and cloak her in attitude. If she ignores her food, Pearl in particular thinks it is an invitation for open grazing. So Steve picked up the bowl and put it on the counter.
She began to whimper and Steve returned with the bowl only for her to look into it with disdain and then at me. "Nope," I mouthed. Steve started to beg her to eat.
Suddenly, I was transported back to the dinnertable. "Eat you dinner, please." Upturned nose. Steve started to reach for a kibble to hand offer WD a taste.
"Eat, please, without being a brat or I will have dad pick up your breafast and then you will wait until dinner. And trust me, dad will do it if ask." She actually turned her back on Steve's efforts.
"OK, Little Miss, last time, please eat your dinner or it will be gone." She looked at me. "Ten, nine, eight, seven..." Yes, I actually began the countdown I so hated as a child. WD is smart enough to understand.
White Dog, like I did, stared me down until I got to "three" and she began to worry about going hungry. At "two" she put her nose into the bowl and took a bite. She did not look up and after hopped down and went to her room without a word or eye contact...but she HAD eaten all of her breakfast.