Whenever my husband is away on business it's my responsibility to not only run the house, but to take care of his puppy girl, pixie.  The mangy little mutt is afraid of me, and for good reasons!  I hate her and I hate how my husband dotes on her.

Every morning he chooses to take this ugly, clumsy animal out for "walkies" in the park rather than having a long leisurely breakfast with me.  When he comes home for lunch he spends half the time playing with her in the backyard because supposedly she needs the attention and the exercise.  In the evenings he takes her out for another walk, sometimes for an hour or two if the weather is nice.  That's time he should be spending with me.  

He spoils her with the nicest kibble and even gives her table scraps--I don't spend half the day cooking so that my food can be sloppily licked up off the floor by a filthy, drooling beast!  She gets new collars, leashes and bowls regularly, and weekly trips to the groomers while I get no presents and am lectured about overspending on my allowance all the time.    

The worst is that he uses her right in front of me.  We could be sitting together on the couch, him reading, and me knitting, and that disgusting dog will sniffs at his crotch until he gives her "her bone."  Thankfully he just uses her slobbery muzzle and hasn't "mated" her--yet.

I could look at taking care of pixie as another responsibility heaped on the many I already have, but I look forward to these times where I can remind her what her place is in the house.

"Come on, pixie, you dumb doggy!  Your Master is gone and I'm in charge and I've decided you're going to spend the whole week in the outdoor kennel.  Yes, I know it's cold outside, but it's not literally freezing.  You'll just have to cuddle up with Ares if you get cold!  Oh, and don't think you're going to be getting any of that expensive kibble.  You can eat out of Ares' dish after he's done--if he leaves you any left overs that is..."