Greetings, my fellow port swillers and happy Fathers’ Day!
Ironically enough, what with Mrs. R taking teh younger gels to camp today and teh eldest jaunting down to King’s Dominion, after Mass ol’ Robbo spent most of the day more or less just mooching around Port Swiller Manor on his own. One can argue that a break from teenagers can be a rayther nice Fathers’ Day gift in and of itself, but it also wears pretty thin pretty fast.
Anyhoo, somebody recently asked me, “Tom, how go things with teh new doggeh?”
Well, she certainly doesn’t avoid me anymore but at the same time she does not seem to have gained complete trust and confidence in me as she has the female members of the Port Swiller family. Indeed, she reminds me at this point very much of Ben Bolt’s Alice:
DON’T you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt,—
Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown,
Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile,
And trembled with fear at your frown?
She likes it when I pet her (indeed, she seeks it out), but she mostly still goes stock-still when I do so. Also, if I so much as look at her squiggle-eyed, she…well, what the poem says.
It’s a shame, really, and makes me wonder what kind of Alpha Male she had to deal with in her earlier life. Sooner or later, I’m sure she’ll come round.