I'm a good dog.
I sit when they tell me. I don't beg. I wait patiently by the door and keep watch at the window and do everything right.
But my sister gets the belly rubs. The baby talk. The photos. She's smaller, cuter, and four weeks ahead of me in a house that only has room for one favorite.
I tried everything to earn what she gets for free. I followed them everywhere. I copied her tricks. I made myself impossible to ignore.
It didn't work.
So I stopped trying.
And started noticing how fragile she really is.
How easy it would be for something to go wrong.
