The Demon Spawn

Sweet Daddio has a dog. Her name is Lacy and she is a black and tan longhaired miniature dachshund. Or maybe a small standard, I don’t remember. Anyway, Lacy is the canine equivalent of a Demon Spawn from Heck. She’s not really bad enough to be from Hell, but she is working on her Masters Degree in Mind Manipulation and, to me, that makes her from Heck.

She is physically quite lovely, with a tri-colored glossy coat and long feathers on her tail and belly. She is mostly black, with rust colored markings on her face and legs, and platinum blonde highlights on her belly and the underside of her tail. She looks like some sort of very sophisticated punk rocker with an account at Jose’s in Beverly Hills.

Lacy likes to talk. When she has something important to say, she sits about 4 feet away from you and goes “Yomp.” She’ll then glare for a minute, and “Yomp.” again. If that fails to spur you to her desired action (chew bone, please, or maybe a biscuit, or, failing that, a medium rare rib-eye will suffice), she gets down on her belly and gives you the Demon Spawn From Heck Glare of Persuasion. I, of course, am immune to such tactics. Sweet Daddio is not, and she knows this.

She is capable of a whole range of emotive facial expression.

She can look coy.

This is how she looks when in Demonic Mode. It’s not the flash making her eyes red. They really do that. Reaaaaally.

She is capable of a disarming sweetness.

Most of the time she just looks sneaky.

As an antidote for all this exposure to such duplicitousness, I offer you a picture of the dog that Lacy Doppelgangers. This is Rosie, my dog, and a sweeter, more ingenuous creature you’ll never meet. She hasn’t a malicious bone in her body. No one would ever dream of accusing her of being Demon Spawn, because she’s a Perfect Angel, the Pollyanna of the canine world, A Tootsie Roll compared to Lacy’s liter of Jose’ Cuervo Gold. Rosie is Generous and Kind and never, ever sneaky or self-serving.

This is her “humans are stupid and if I just do my ears they’ll think I’m perfect” look. Fortunately for me, she is unaware that her eyes turn red when she’s plotting something sinister.

Maybe 2 hours a day, she ian’t into any trouble, she’s not planning a coup d’etat in a small African nation, or chewing something up then blaming another dog for the mess.

So that’s Lacy. Lord, it’s like having a precocious 10 year old in the house all day. An Entitled precocious 10 yr old. With an overdeveloped sense of worth. Geez.