Liila "cops a tude"

Liila is spoiled. We know it. She knows it. Anyone who comes into contact with her knows it, but it was her veterinarian who was bold enough to point out the fact. When he mentioned that she was spoiled, Ma and I looked at each other with confusion and amusement. Yes, she is spoiled and we are well aware of this fact, but is it that obvious? What had she done to make him say such? Was it when she over dramatized her mani-pedi? Was it when she refused to look at him, hid her head and cried? Or was it something we did? I guess we will never really know, but this morning Liila took spoiled to a whole new level. In recent months Liila has turned a new leaf. Maybe it is her third birthday that is swiftly approaching or maybe she has decided enough is enough, but Liila has an attitude. More so than normal. She refuses to eat her treats when she is mad and a couple of times has spit them into the floor. She is rebelling against her bedtime and seems to think she is too old to have to sleep in her room. She has become more demanding and expects a fresh rawhide bone every morning, even though she has a zillion little pieces hidden all over the house that the cats use as hockey pucks. This morning was no exception. As Ma and I sat drinking our coffee, Liila walked into the kitchen and sat beside the cabinet that holds the bones and like many other mornings, she began to whine. Incessantly. I looked down and saw part of a bone at my feet, picked it up and flung it into the kitchen. We could hear her fumbling with the little piece of bone and, thinking that would appease her, continued on with our conversation. In less than a minute here came Liila prancing into the room, bone in her mouth, tail wagging. She walked up to me, stood by my feet and with all the force her little body could muster, she spit that bone right back at me! When the shock of what happened wore off Ma and I both looked up and then collapsed in laughter. After making her point, Liila made her way to Ma's lap, where she sat with a smile on her face.
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An hour later: She holds a grudge.
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