- They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
- They pursued it with forks and hope;
- They threatened its life with a railway-share;
- They charmed it with smiles and soap.
- - Lewis Carroll, The Hunting of the Snark
The dog comes over and stares at me intently. "I need something."
"Okay, what do you need?"
More staring. "Help me."
"Sure, I can do that! Help you how?"
Intent, fixed gaze. "I need something."
"But what is it?"
Staring right at me. "Help me."
"Look, I'm starting to get annoyed here."
Perfunctory wag of the tail. "I'm sorry. I'm very sorry."
I've offered her food; I've offered her a back scratching. I put her outside; I let her back inside. I took her for a walk; I took her for a car ride while I went to get treats.
Now she's sitting in the car refusing to get out. She's glaring at me because I won't give her what she needs.
She's been sitting in the car for the last hour and a half. "It's all my fault," her gaze clearly indicates. (Trust me, this dog knows how to do reproach. She doesn't do it often, but she's good at it.)
Where the flying fig is a pet psychic when I need one?