And, maybe I am…
Jernee hasn’t truly opened up about this little problem of hers, but she’s becoming more and more ornery as the days pass. She’s also getting extremely possessive of my existence. Granted, I do feed, clothe, bathe, play with, and love her, she’s taking this “You’re Mine!” thing a bit too far. At nearly 8, she’s displaying a sort of questioning my goings-out and coming-in type of clingy boyfriend behavior. How so, you ask?
A simple trip to the dumpster can turn into a grand reunion coupled with detailed sniffing of my clothes and searching my eyes for evidence of betrayal. “Jernee, I took the garbage out. Calm down.” That’s usually my response to her when I come back from a small, yet necessary duty. And, don’t let me leave her alone while I run errands for let’s say, two hours!?!? I come back to a home filled with silent judging and huffs of disapproval. As soon as I open her cage door, search and seizure of whatever fake *thing* I must’ve brought home with me begins. She’ll raise that twitchy nose of hers, corner me, then bit by bit, she’ll once again familiarize herself with the mostly cottony materials covering my body.
I’m the human, here. Am I not? Don’t I have freedoms not openly distributed to my four-legged love? Can’t I frolic in the cool Spring air (but, not for long. I have allergies. Pollen is not my friend.) without a care or be constantly monitored by the most loyal being walking the planet? Jernee doesn’t seem to think so. I’m hers and hers, only. She’s not sharing ME. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
Author’s note: Jernee really isn’t this jealous… Oh naw, lemme cut the bull. She’s THIS jealous. This happens to be the most recent blog entry about this one I lovingly call “The Little Monster.”