In a New York Minute
One minute Spring and I are having a fun morning tussle. The next, I'm in the
Infirmary. What happened in between is kind of a blur.
I do know that Lyle thought the game was Pick On Spring, which is not Spring's favorite game. So maybe that's what set her off. I don't know. The boss ma'am was standing right there watching and brushing her teeth and she didn't see it coming either.
But it happened. In the blink of an eye our wrestling match turns into Extreme Fighting; we're all teeth. The boss ma'am is screaming at us and dripping toothpaste--she looks like a rabid dog. The boss man races in and yanks us apart but blood has already been shed. Mostly mine.
Please understand, I'm not violent by nature. I enjoy a tussle but I wasn't looking for a fight. That said, if I'm challenged, I'm not about to back down. I might look dainty but I'm no shrinking violet. I like to think I give as good as I get. Trouble is, I have thin hound skin and Spring is, well, Spring is built like a rhinoceros. So I'm the one bleeding on the sink in the guest bathroom and Spring only has a scrape and a bump on the nose. But she's watching me, hovering on the floor and hoping to score some of my pity treats.
"We're cool, right, Maebes?" She knows I don't like that nickname.
"Sure, StinkyDink. We're cool."
And I think we are. Spring has been pretty reserved since then. She's been very wary of the boss ma'am--I guess she still thinks the ma'am is rabid. I do know the bosses are in my corner and I feel good about that. But I am not looking for a rematch. I'm all for peace. I hope Spring is too.