Paranoid Pip

There was no denying it, the dog had been a decided factor in the possible breakup of their marriage. What a stupid, ridiculous thought! She struggled with it, shoving it into the back of Her head. Why, it was blaming one's own failures on a helpless, dependent, innocent, simple-minded animal! Except, of course, Pip was absolutely none of those things. She glanced at the clock. Maria was immersed in a school project. Paulie was taking a scuba class. But Vinnie should have been back from his guitar lesson by now. As usual, She would have to walk the dog. Pip had been given to those kids with the distinct understanding that they were to care for his needs which, naturally, included walking. The novelty of Pip's notoriety had indeed worn a little thin. “Fame is sure fleeting,” She thought. But, then, who could blame them for not wanting to be exposed to the hazards of taking him out, anyway. Thank heaven, Pip was snoring loudly on the couch. She could still postpone the inevitable trauma of walking him for a little while longer. She looked at “Monsterville” (Vinnie's coinage), a tri-colored, pedigreed, Wire-Haired Terrier, beautifully formed but for his ears—which shouldn't, but did, stand straight up. Not a particularly good characteristic of the breed, but perfect for his singular personality. At this juncture, Her problems, both foreign and domestic, were making it increasingly more difficult for Her to focus on any one thing for any length of time. Ergo, She found it strange that Her thoughts should now return to that absurd canine—Pip. Maybe, indeed, because he had played quite a part in the whole miserable mess...