It states in my little bio that I am a dog lover. That’s a bit of an understatement. Our little dog, Ellie, is part of our family; and I think it’s safe to say that a good chunk of my life revolves around her. She is a 2-year-old shih tzu. If you aren’t familiar with the breed the name means “little lion dog”. Shih tzus originally existed to guard the palace halls of Chinese royalty. They spent their days roaming palace halls and sitting on royal laps. When night came they warmed royal feet at the end of the bed. The royal treatment has been passed down through the generations and has left my little girl with a bit of an entitlement complex.

Ellie doesn’t place any value on our economic status or on expensive toys; but she strongly believes that she should get what she wants, when she wants it. Authority be damned! And how could we resist her cute little face? Her sense of entitlement rears it’s head throughout the night when she slowly takes up more and more of the bed, hogging covers and pushing Greg closer to the edge. My favorite example of her slight snootiness is when she decides to play in the bathtub, despite the many times we’ve discouraged it. She sauntered off while I was watching tv today, and I suddenly hear the slight clink of her tiny paws hitting the tub. She paces around before she starts to dig a little. When I went into the bathroom and told her sternly to get out of the bathtub she simply sat and stared at me as if to say, “No. And you can’t make me”.