"Help me, Rich Folk! I'm Being Mistreated!"

I'm convinced that my dog is trying to sell me out to Animal Rights group in an effort to get a home with the billionaires that live behind me. Ralphie and I take our walks through an extremely wealthy neighborhood with huge houses with big fenced-in yards - some with pools and/or tennis courts. Ever since we started our walks through there, Ralphie would strain and pull trying to walk up their sidewalks towards their front doors. And don't get me wrong, I was right there with him in spirit; I would love to live in ANY of those gorgeous homes. Being a self-aware human being, however, I would hold back, give Ralphie a quick tug, and we would be on our way. Now it would seem that RalphieÂ’s keen sense of manipulation has taken over, and he has come up with a new scheme. If I won't let him simply walk in the front door, then his best bet would be to remove the obstacle holding him back - me. His latest ploy involves making a spectacle of how hard his life with me is in some vain hope that someone sitting under their crystal chandelier will be watching the "doggie injustice" who will then march outside, scoop him up, and place him on his new velvet embroidered pillows conveniently placed right next to his sirloin steak cutlets. His act includes him insisting on stopping at every stagnant pool of water we come across and lapping it up as if it is the only water he has had in days. He has even perfected it to the point of when I try to pull him away he will sometimes even strain to get one last lap. He does this even if the last thing that he does before leaving the apartment is drink from the water bowl. I can practically hear him saying, "Oh God! Sweet water!" (pant, pant) "If only my owner found it in her heart to give me this one precious life-sustaining element, my sad, sad life would be minimally improved. The hard labor and sweatshopesque conditions under which I live would be somewhat improved!"

Now, before I get 50 comments about how I leave my dog in his crate when I'm not there and blah, blah, blah, let me say that I have to leave him crated while I'm not there lest he tear up the entire apartment including the cat (which has recently started to mistake for a large, plush chew toy). And when he starts putting on these command performances, we have usually just come from sitting around the apartment with his water bowl filled with clean, fresh tap water. His now, almost daily performances have now even reached the point where he began lapping up rain water from the fire escape stairs on our way back to the apartment - also known as the home of his water dish!!

All I'm saying is, if I get taken to doggie court, he better come up with a way to post bail, or I'm selling all his favorite toys to pup-junkies that live in the alley.