WIMPY WEENIE

For all her ferocious barking and growling, I am the mother of a wimpy weenie. She would die of mortification if she knew that I knew what she knows. I have figured out, she doesn't want to go with me because she wants my company, she goes because she is scared to stay home. She is in a bad place, because if she goes and has to stay in the car, she hits the floorboard as soon as I get out of the car and stays there until I get back. When I get back to the car and look in, she is gazing up at me like a deer in the headlights. Sometimes, when I get back from the nursing home, she is hidden behind the recliner and won't make a sound until I start calling her. I guess as she gets older, she realizes that she is really, really short and not very big at all.
I bought her a little pen to be in on the back patio and she shakes when I put her in it. Now mind you, she will dart out the door on the darkest night and run all the way around the house, but that seems to be okay with her. Maybe it is because she is so busy getting away from me, she doesn't know fear.
I had hoped, by buying the pen, I could put her litter pan in it and persuade her to go outside, so she wouldn't spread litter all over the bathroom. Ha! Ha!, the joke is on me as usual. She is not about to squat in the great outdoors.