Beware, the Westie evil eye

Westies do the best evil eye. You will know when we are not amused.

Stop tummy tickling? You'll get the evil eye.

Not paying me enough attention? The evil eye.

Waiting too long? More evil eye.

Pushing me off your side of the bed? At your own peril, the evil eye.

Leaving the house without me? Big evil eye.

The darkest depths of my eye are transfixed on you. Call it distain, disapproval, disgust, disappointment, dismay. There is no escaping the feelings of guilt and shame which an evil eye bestows on the recipient. Upset me at your peril.

Once, there was a woman Australian politician who did a good evil eye. Not bad for a human, but mine is much better. The power of that withering look.

It's been around for a long time, 5,000 years or so, and all around the world. Lots of people still think it is a curse, which it sort of is because you don't want to incur the wrath of a Westie. We can make an evil eye last for hours.

Some humans believe it is a kind of supernatural force that casts a malevolent gaze upon those who wish harm upon others, especially innocents. Yes, innocent Westies. Why would anyone want to upset us? We are such pearlescent, cute, lovable, friendly, intelligent beings.

It does feel like I have a supernatural power because humans have been reduced to a jibbering mess under my gaze. I love it. The power.

Supposedly, around 40% of humans are scared of the evil eye and there are lots of amulets and talismans (new words) to protect them. My human mum has an Eye of Horus from when she was in Egypt. It is supposed to protect you from the evil eye. Nothing can protect her from my evil eye, especially some strange looking almond-shaped thing with a curly bit at the end. Horus-dinosaurus, I say.

Westies have perfected it.

Be nice or the evil eye will get you.