The Imperial Dog is getting lazy these days. I mean, she has always been lazy. This is the dog who, as a pup, would lay down on the grass and refuse to budge when she's tired of walking in the park. But now she's getting fat, old, and much more lazier.
One of the Imperial Dog's duties is pest control. She is in charge of chasing away the ugly commoner children who dare venture too close to the Imperial Palace. She is also in charge of catching things like cockroaches and mice.
One day, the Imperial Dog caught a cockroach. A huge one. She tried to grind it in her mouth, then rolled over it trying to crush it with her body. But it must be the cockroaches' hard exoskeletons that made them so much harder to kill than mice.
So anyway, after a few minutes of not being able to kill it, the Imperial Dog just laid down on the floor and watched as the cockroach limped away. I, of course, kicked her and said, "That cockroach will level up because it encountered an elite boss and survived!", but she just gave me her why-the-frak-are-you-kicking-me look. (Because I am Empress, I will not stoop down to doing a commoner activity such as grabbing my slipper and killing the cockroach myself.)
Some time ago, the Imperial Houseboy and I decided to bug the Imperial Brother by loitering in his bedchamber. The Imperial Dog followed me, of course, and settled herself comfortably on the Imperial Brother's bed. Then the Imperial Houseboy opened a bag of corn chips and we started munching on them. The Imperial Dog gave us her why-the-frak-are-you-not-feeding-me look.
So the Imperial Houseboy offered her a corn chip. She bit it, then dropped it on the floor. She stared at it, and whined because the corn chip had the gall to drop out of her mouth and unto the floor. And because she thinks she is Empress, she refused to make the two-foot jump from the bed to retrieve the corn chip.
After a few minutes of whining, she gave me her why-the-frak-are-you-not-picking-my-corn-chip-off-the-floor look. And because she (thinks she) is Empress, I had no choice but to sigh, pick up her corn chip, feed it to her, and make sure she doesn't drop it on the floor this time.
See, the Imperial Dog has a mind of her own. She wasn't trained to obey me. She obeys me because she wants to. ...When she feels like it.
May old dogs live forever ^_^
Signed,
Her Imperial Majesty
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