River and the Bee

It was a very normal, everyday Thursday.  Daddy was working.  Mommy took Pocket and me out to pee.  We put on our leashes and went out the back porch door.  When we go to the grass Pocket, always trying to be the rebel, got on my back, and rolled around on the cool green grass.

I know I should not get on my back, spread my legs, and roll around.  That is the kind of behavior that made me an unwed, teenage mother.  But someday you can’t help yourself. You have to get on your back, spread your legs, and roll.

Mommy made me flip over and get into position (for peeing, geez people.)  After some searching, I peed, and we began walking back in the house.  Every few feet I would stop and sit down.  Mommy told me to move, and I would, but then stop again.  When we got back inside the porch, I sat down and wouldn’t move.

Mommy picked me up and began searching.  That is when she found a bee on my butt.  (It wasn’t in my bonnet, but it was too close to my bonnet for comfort.)  She didn’t want to startle the bee. I had never been bitten before, and she didn’t know what would happen.  So she tried to pinch the bee between her fingers.

That bee went and stung her right on the hand.  It then fell on the ground and mommy squished it.  I was upset.  Mommy got stung because I was on my back rolling in the grass.  In my defense, Pocket was useless during the entire situation.

I immediately jumped up and tried to lick the venom out of her hand.  She assured me it was all right.  She was alone and had to perform surgery on herself with a pair of tweezers and removed the stinger.  I think she is going to be all right.

I swore I was never going to roll around on my back with my legs spread again.

But let’s face it, it’s still going to happen