My Dog is a Karen – Dejected Dog
A southern wind woke us up Saturday morning bringing the temperature from below freezing to over forty degrees by ten. Accompanying the warming airstream came a bright sunny day raising the temps to the fifties by midafternoon. In Miami, sunny fifty degrees is considered cold and blustery, but in northern Ohio, this is a rare gift from God.
The unusually nice day brought people out of their houses for chores as my father used to say, "Make hay while the sun is shining." The bathing warmth of the sun also brought old dogs to soak in the hospitable temperatures. Our problem comes in the form of a nine-year-old, red-headed, cranky, karen of a dog named Ginger.
Seeing the sun blasting through the window, Ginger made her way outside at nine. Nice but not quite ready for her old bones to stay outdoors. Checking again at ten, the sun and wind rose the temperatures to make it very pleasant. Fifteen minutes later, the sunbathing dog spied the neighbor coming out of his garage. Since she never approved of him buying the house in the first place, her inner karen erupted on the man doing yard work.
I compelled her back into the house and pressured her to go to her room. This lasted all of ten minutes and she sought out again. I didn’t notice the neighbor, so I let her out. The door didn’t have the chance to close when, “Aaaarrrrrrooooo,” instant anger shrills came out of her mouth. I corralled her back into the house and directed her to her room in under thirty seconds.
Every ten minutes like clockwork, Ginger whined her discontent to go outside. I checked to see if the neighbor was still working and refused her. I noticed his car had gone around eleven and let Ginger out. She sprung out the door with great expectations only to find nothing out of place. She spent a good twenty minutes doing what dogs do on an exceptionally warm February day.
A despondent scratch came from her door and she entered a dejected dog. Her slow pouting pace informed me she found nothing to howl at for a full term outside. She skulked off to her room like a petulant child complaining under her breath.
I found out from mom, that after each time I sent her upstairs, our karen of a dog complained to the manager about me not letting wail at the neighbors. The mother of the house explained, "Ginger nudged my arm with the saddest of eyes and grimace on her face."
She wanted mom to countermand dad’s orders and let her go karen on the neighbor fixing his yard. When she did spend time outside, she found nothing to raise the hairs on her back. She curled up on the bed and moaned her displeasure for ten minutes.
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