Dogs That Beg... And Other Whiners

The other morning, when we were settling into our seats for breakfast at Emperador Trajano, San Geraldo whined a little bit when the empty chair was too far away for him to easily reach. He uses the extra chair to stash his hat and sunglasses. I hate whining (even when I do it). So, as I slid the chair toward him, I muttered, "Don't whine."

I NEVER WHINED, NOT EVEN WHEN THE DOWAGER DUCHESS GAVE ME A BALLOON
FOR BREAKFAST AND TOLD ME IT WAS AN ORANGE.

Without missing a beat, as he dropped his hat and sunglasses on the chair, San Geraldo retorted, "Well, if you'd pay attention to my needs, I wouldn't have to."

MY SISTER DALE DID MORE THAN WHINE, EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS GIVEN REAL FOOD.

San Geraldo and his sister Linda are very obviously related. Twenty-five years ago, Linda's dog, a Cairn Terrier (like Toto) named Ebony, was begging at my feet as we all sat at the table eating dinner. I love dogs, but I really hate begging.

MY BROTHER CHUCK WHINED NO MATTER HOW MUCH WE ABUSED TRIED TO DISTRACT HIM.

I looked down at sweet little Ebony and I said, "Ebony, don't beg."

Linda, who was sitting next to me, grabbed a small piece of chicken from my plate and, as she fed it to Ebony, commented, "Well, if you'd give her something, she wouldn't have to."

FLOWER GIRL LINDA AND RING-BEARER JERRY.
LINDA WHINED. THEN SHE WAS PROMISED THAT DOLLAR IF SHE DID HER JOB.