Heather Anne

I tried not to get too offended that most of the people who have emailed lately have been more concerned about Margaret than about the seriously insane plague that has been conquering me. The dog and I had a little battle this week because when I got sick, Margaret sensed my weakness, and tried to dethrone me as pack leader in our house. Tuesday morning as I was walking from the kitchen to the living room with a piece of cheese toast, Margaret pranced right over to me and TOOK IT OUT OF MY HAND. This kind of behavior does not fly with me and Amy, who has two advanced degrees in Early Childhood Education and is no stranger to the way cuteness and manipulation coalesce. So I turned to Amy and stamped my foot. "But she took my toast!" I said.

Margaret is usually the most submissive one in our household, but I was more hurt then outraged when--even after Amy confronted her--Margaret would not drop the toast. "She thinks I'm dying!" I told Amy. "And she doesn't even care. She just wants control of that lousy piece of bread!"

Amy pried her mouth open and made her spit out every single crumb.

Later that night, Margaret showed out by repeatedly scratching the front door at 3:00 a.m. I was standing in the kitchen, looking for any sort of bronchial relief in the refrigerator when Amy came downstairs to deal with the dog. "Back up on that rug!" Amy said sternly when she entered the kitchen. Margaret and I both stepped back onto the rug in front of the sink. "Now lay down!" she said, at which point I realized she was talking to Margaret and not me, so I walked back to the refrigerator. Amy went about the business of putting out the baby gates to seal off the kitchen--the ultimate punishment for Margs, a whole night of Time Out.

"I'm getting a glass of juice," I told Margaret. "Which I--unlike you--am allowed to do."

"Do not move off of that rug," Amy warned.

"Your mama likes me better," I said to Margaret. I poured a glass of orange juice and gave her one last look. "And guess what else," I said. "Even when I'm sick, I STILL HAVE THUMBS."

So, Margaret is fine, thank you for asking. She's really enjoying this Spring weather.