Sunday, October 11, 2009

A Black and Bitter Disappointment

I think you know from the title what I am about to say. I have been horribly betrayed at the last minute and left, literally, waiting at the fence for my ride to the opera.

This is how the betrayal unfolded. My friends from Ottawa arrived and rushed to my side. They brushed and cossetted me and removed the residue of burrs that was stuck to my person. They said I looked slimmer, fitter, wiser and infinitely furrier. In short, they are the perfect visitors. Yesterday Jack and I took them, and Herself, for a stroll - I understood it was an afternoon constitutional to ready us for an evening of sitting and absorbing culture.

In late afternoon, the humans retired to the house to ready themselves. Now, I had been assured just that morning by the youngest visitor that I was most certainly in the opera party. I have known her all my life and most of hers; she is the one and only human ever allowed to sit on my person. I trust her words completely. She has never told me anything but the truth.

Well, out comes the woman, her face somewhat clean and her hair somewhat under control, nearly ready for the departure. She let the other three into their rooms and I politely went to the fence nearest the opera vehicle and waited. Nothing happened. I waited a bit more and finally went to the barn door to remind her that I was ready. My dinner was in my room and she encouraged me to enter. I refused. She finally strong-armed me inside and snapped the stall guard into place. I began to cry plaintively that there was a terrible misunderstanding and all she said was that she would see us later. My cries followed her out the door.

The young visitor pleaded in vain, saying I would behave better than all the human attendees combined and that I would love the elevating device and the refreshments. Herself laughed raucously at the very idea and they all piled into the vehicle. I was utterly bereft.

Of course the opera was magnificent - featuring all the required elements of drama, pathos and betrayal (I know about that first-hoof). The young visitor described all I had missed (there was even what looked like a hoof paring knife wielded by the heroine!) and said she had missed having me in the seat next to her. It's nice to have at least one ally, athough I'm stuck here with - I can't even bring myself to mention her name.

Jack was fine with missing the performance. "huh", he said, "if it don't got minnie perl in it, it ain't worth bendin an ear to."


billie said...

Oh, Sheaffer, I am heartbroken for you. :////

That Woman!

You know I have defended her many times, even wrt the vermifuge obsession.

But this is TOO MUCH.

She must make amends, immediately.

Dougie Donk said...

This is beyond the powers of going in a good sulk!

I do not know what would begin to make suitable amends, but my heart is with you. I trust that the woman can be made to realise that some things are indefensible...

South Valley Girl said...

My grandmother's opera cape remains in the closet... Sheaffer remains in the barn... I see a pattern emerging here - a pattern of NEGLECT of precious items/donkeys that should be at the opera.

Oh the shame of it all...

robert5721 said...

HOW RUDE and disgusting !! YOU should have gone and THEY should have stayed at home to keep your bedroom warm for your return..
A CD of the opera played for four days MINIMUM in the barn is a minimal offer for forgiveness..along with MANY stud muffins and other goodies..
suggest this to herself immediately !!
Mr Gale

Gale said...

I'll go Mr. Gale one better and say that the entire cast, the orchestra, the whole shebang should come to your place and perform for you. Your hurt feelings are eliciting tears from Virginia!

Mr. Jack Joy can be trusted to behave (if you ask him to use his "inside voice") but move Doc to the outskirts for the evening (otherwise, he'll mouth off during the performance about ZZ Top or Aerosmith or some such ridiculous group!). I leave it to you to decide about Molly.

Stud muffins and champagne (or tea, if you prefer) should be served during intermission). Herself, of course, should be locked inside the house! Enuf said!

Buddy said...

Hay Sheaffer - well that was just not fair at all. She knew how you were looking forward to it - its just wrong wrong wrong. I sure hope she bought the CD and plans on playing it for you whenever you want. Stud muffins for sure and lots of gummie worms.

Your fren,

completecare said...

Hi Sheaffer,
Like you, we never get included in any social activites. We have resigned ourselves to the fact but rather than getting upset we formed our own musical group so we can entertain family, friends and neighbours. We usually practice two or three times a day. We find practicing too often strains our throat muscles. My mom,Bert,is the lead singer and usually starts off on a lively note. Molly joins in with her deep gravelly voice and then Marble with her high pitched squeak. I come in only for the chorus where a strong masculine voice is needed to keep the girls in "tune". By the time we are ready to start the second verse the three canine residents have joined in howling, yipping and yelping. Our human has mentioned that she would like to tape our musical interludes and send a CD to an agent in Nashville. Maybe you could gather your barn friends together and try a practice session every now and then - may I suggest midnight.

Your fan,

BumbleVee said...

ahhhhh poor Sheaffer....I did think it sounded just a bit too good to be true.....sigh.....

South Valley Girl said...

I think the idea of creating an opera-singing group of your own is an excellent one, and you should start rehearsals immediately. It seems likely to be the only way culture will ever come to your neighborhood, and who better than Yourself to organize it?

Great idea.


ponymaid said...

My dear friends, thank you for your kind words of consolation. I am trying to bear up but the wound is deep. It's made more difficult by the wind and rain sweeping over us - I might as well live at Wuthering Heights.

I am putting your suggestions to work, however, and in addition to giving her frostier treatment than even the weather is providing these days, I have demanded all opera all the time on the radio. She has proffered some treat-like items and for now I am accepting them with a withering look. I am quite taken with the idea of a donkey chorus and Jack and I are practicing diligently. We have begun performing in the run-in door and it's certainly attracting her attention. She can complain and critique all she wants but we remain resolute. She must pay for her perfidious actions.

Jack is very much on-side with my plans and says all the "hollerin" is clearing out his sinuses a treat.