Stuck In The Middle

Skincare is so important, especially if you're a dog allergic to everything (much like the SJG). This explains why Dusty has his very own animal dermatologist, to make sure his fur retains its luster and elasticity well into middle age.  Plus, we can't have him scratching and licking himself, 24-7, now can we?  (The SJG conquered this urge back in junior high).  Today's visit to the spa office presented a few unforeseen  challenges, however.  Two seconds in the door, Dusty, a canine capable of shockingly quick paw maneuvers -- just ask anyone who's ever attempted to eat a meal at my house -- spotted a plate of  cookies set out on a small table.  One swipe from the original counter surfer himself and those goodies would be gone. 

I held his leash tightly and said, "No," as if that would make a difference.  The dog inched closer.  "No," I said, and I meant it, too.  "No cookies for you, mister."  He made a sound resembling a snarky laugh.  The message:  "Watch me."  I looked over at the gal who worked there.  "Could you maybe move the cookies?"  She smiled.  "Oh, go ahead, one cookie won't kill you."  Before I could explain that the cookies were an issue for my dog, not the SJG, a cat appeared on the scene.  Dusty started growling and dancing between the cat and the cookies, not sure where to direct his attention.  Sniff the cat's tush then steal a cookie?  Steal a cookie, then sniff the cat's tush?  The dog looked torn.  To ease his discomfort, I started singing.  I picked an old song by Stealer's Wheel, switching up the lyrics: "Cookies to the left of me, Cats to my right, here I am, Stuck in the middle with you."  My voice scared the cat and Dusty forgot all about the cookies.  It was time for his spa treatment examination.  Problem solved.