Bitty is cute

Bitty is cute. She knows she is cute.

In fact, she is so cute that she believes everyone should fall to their knees, open their arms and worship her cuteness with hugs, kisses and chicken-flavored treats. And most of the time, people do just that.

However, Bitty met someone who didn't fall to his knees. In fact, he wouldn't even pick her up. He dared not to acknowledge her presence. It was, in fact, no one other than my own father.

This treatment confounds Bitty. As we celebrated Mom's birthday this weekend, Bitty decided to get to the root of this problem. She was determined to snuggle with my dad.

No pillow could stop Bitty. She tries an alternate route.

No matter! She'll go over the pillow. If she can climb a couch, she can climb a pillow. She is Bitty. Hear her roar.

Bitty is confounded as to how she wound up on the floor. Didn't she blink her big black eyes? Didn't she roll over to show her soft pink belly? She even flattened her ears and wagged her tail with her most pitiful expression. What was wrong with this man? Is he allergic to dogs? Is he scared of Chihuahuas? Is he immune to cuteness? Why doesn't he want to worship her like everyone else? This doesn't make sense.

Danielle adores Bitty.

The Blonde Duck adores Bitty. Bear is merely tolerable. He's not nearly as cute as I am, Bitty thinks to herself.

Ben adores Bitty.

Bitty decides this is too much adoration. She is not amused by the pink bag.

Even the birthday lady adores Bitty. Bitty isn't sure how she'll conquer the Blonde Duck's dad, but she knows she will. She's too cute. Her belly is too pink. Her eyes are too sweet. She's too tiny and delicate to be ignored.

Sooner or later, she'll have him. It's just a matter of time.

Until then, she'll sit right here and think. After all, she's cute.