There are certain words you have to be careful saying around a dog.

“Treat.”

“Walk.”

“Outside.”

And apparently, “we’re going.”

Because the second Stella hears anything that even remotely suggests somebody is leaving the house, she needs answers.

Where are we going? When are we leaving? Which vehicle are we taking? And most importantly, why has nobody helped Stella pack?

There’s just one small problem.

There is no “we.”

Stella is not going.

Unfortunately, explaining this to her feels unnecessarily cruel because she has already mentally included herself in the plans. She’s ready. She’s watching us move around the house. Every shoe being put on and every set of keys being picked up only confirms what she already believes:

We’re going somewhere.

No, ma’am.

We are going somewhere.

You are staying here.

Then comes the look.

That unmistakable little face that says she cannot believe the two people she trusted most would betray her like this.

Never mind that she has a comfortable house, food, water, toys, beds, and absolutely nowhere she needs to be. Apparently none of that matters when Mom and Dad are going on an adventure without her.

So Stella will remain behind, presumably staring out the window and preparing our punishment for when we return.

Given her recent criminal history involving the carpet, I’m slightly concerned about what form that punishment may take.

Maybe next time, Stella.

Probably not.

But maybe