You know it.

The dog who cried wolf

Her Majesty likes to lie right behind the front door. Which doesn't mean she's waiting faithfully for me to come home, because she also does it when I'm at home. Anyway. Yesterday she was a little slow in moving away when I opened the door, so the door hit her toes.

Tragedy!

Of course she first let out a blood-curdling scream, and then since I had my arms full of groceries and couldn't attend to her immediately, she followed me to the kitchen, hopping on three legs and crying piteously all the way. So I put the groceries down, pick up the dog and go sit on the couch. There was nothing wrong with her foot, so I kissed it better. Then she squirmed free and carried on with her day with no further evidence of having just survived a near-fatal injury.

Ok, I know I said that physical contact with loved ones releases oxytocin which is a very effective painkiller, but still. Kissing doesn't cure injuries on little kids, much less on hard-hearted little dogs. She just totally faked it to make me grovel.

And I totally fell for it. Sigh...