How do I even begin, dear reader, to describe the singular event of this past week that rocked my world, leaving me speechless and reeling with disbelief? I am not even sure I can adequately describe how profoundly shattered and bewildered this one seemingly innocent event has left me.
On Thursday evening, a typical workday evening of no particular consequence, at about 8:30 or 9 PM, Lizzard and I were just comfortably hanging out (no better euphemism springs to mind) when, without warning or fanfare Lizzie got up, strolled over to my space, took my little stuffed bear and sauntered back to her bed with him. She then just curled up as if nothing untoward had happened. I stood there looking at her and then at Mom…back and forth my eyes darted trying to make sense of the insensible.
For all of you armchair psychologists, perhaps you can help a pug out. I do not have a logical explanation for her behavior…I do have theories but none are ironclad. This little bear is mine, all mine, untouched by anyone other than my mother and then only when she is cleaning the apartment (even that contact disgusts her). I’ve worked so diligently on my bear, both sucking and pummeling him, that now he sports a very edgy and stiff Mohawk hairdo. For Lizzie to venture into my arena is nothing short of heresy. I can hypothesize that she wished to assert some newfound confidence, or maybe she thought that by taking my bear she could entice me into some lame pug play. Or, perhaps she just had a momentary lapse of judgment, based upon her innate stupidity. Whatever the reason, she left me so stunned that I was incapable of action.
If any of you have ideas about her aberrant behavior, please let me know. I remain baffled in Manhattan.