I really love our dogs. But each of them has a habit that really, really gets on my nerves.
Let’s start with Sir Tinker.
He loves to take naps on our bed, which is fine. He needs to be lifted onto the bed. Which is also fine.
It’s all fine!
Until the getting on the bed process actually begins.
He and I being the process by positioning ourselves at the side of the bed. He starts out standing to my right, so naturally, I reach down to my right to pick him up. Alas, by the time I finish my reach, he has run behind me and is now standing to my left. Of course, I do the next logical thing and reach down to pick him up from that side only to find that he has run behind me again and is now sitting on my right. This will happen several (teeth-grinding) times.
Tinker is a sober fella, so I don’t think it is a game for him. In fact, I think games are the last thing on his mind. I really think this is a serious, ancestral ritual that has to be followed to a T until the proper exchange of sides has taken place, and I am finally allowed to lift him to the bed.
But Tinker, I can handle. His routine takes all of thirty seconds, and I know there is a clear end in sight.
Like her brother, Belle’s annoying trait is also centered around the bed, except that her particular trait can extend to 15-20 minutes. I am not even kidding.
I will lie down for a quick nap, and she will wander into the bedroom and express a desire to join me on the bed. Fine.
But as soon as I reach for her, she skedaddles. She disappears. Underneath the bed. On the opposite side.
And there she will stay for a period of minutes: 5, 10, 15, depending on whether or not she is in a benevolent mood. In the meantime, I cannot go to sleep because as soon as I do, she will reappear and put her paws on the side of the bed to be lifted up. (She has built in radar for when her human is drifting off.)
But even when she puts her paws up, the game isn’t over yet.
If I reach for her when her paws go up on the bed, she will run back under the bed. For long minutes. While I sigh. And wait. And send impatient thought beams in her direction. (I’m pretty sure I can hear her sniggering to herself while she’s under there.)
It is only when she comes out and sits her cantankerous bottom down on the floor that the signal has been given that the game is over, and it is now time to pick her up for real.
Such. Fun.
Steve and I have gotten wise to the wiles of her ways. When he takes the dogs out for the last time at night, he will pick Belle up as soon as he brings her back in and carry her back to the bed. Since she is too small to jump down and start her game, we feel like we have outsmarted her and won the round. It’s the small things in life, right?
Despite their relatively minor annoying traits, everything else about them is delightful.
A postscript to this section: Steve just took the dogs out for a walk, where, to their great consternation, they came across a robotic lawn mower near the street. (Similar in size and shape to a Roomba.) The dogs immediately barked at it, growled at it, and dedicated themselves to protecting Steve from any attack on his person.
But then, after the protective maneuvers had been successfully accomplished, Tinker made a crucial error in judgment.
He felt the need to poop and inexplicably started his squat directly in the path of the evil mower. Steve said it was hilarious because Tinker kept peering over his left shoulder while squatting, watching with ever-widening eyes, as the enemy got closer and closer. Would he finish before he was attacked? Would he have to fight it off mid-poop? How would it all end?
Well. I’m happy to tell you that he got his business done just in time, whereby the mower ran right through his deposit, thereby fertilizing the rest of the lawn. Tinker is all about helping our neighbors.
I’ll close with some photos from an outing Steve and I took to the 67-acre Camp North End, a place I have been wanting to visit ever since we moved to Charlotte.
A little background: The U.S. Army established the Quartermaster Depot at Camp North End in June 1941. It operated as a military supply and weapons manufacturing hub through the Cold War and was the first Ford Motor Company location in Charlotte. Over the years, it made everything from Model Ts to Hercules Missiles. It’s now filled with concerts, art galleries, restaurants, plays, and creativity of all kinds.
One of the entrances.
We were fascinated by this door, not only because it was so old and authentic, but also because the developers of Camp North End saw fit to leave it in that state rather than try to pretty it up.
Steve told me to suck in my cheeks and strike a pose, so I did. Now that I have the pose down, I think that when I retire, I shall be a slightly fluffy Grandma Model.
Steve imitates the drooping paint.
My fella!
And so ends this week’s foray into annoying (beloved dogs), intimidating lawn mowers, and fluffy grandmas.
What about you?
Is there a favorite place in (or near) where you live that you like to explore? What do you like about it best?
Do you have a pet who does endearing/annoying/funny/things?
What are your plans for Fourth of July? Is it supposed to be hot where you are? It’s predicted to be over a hundred here.
We bought pet stairs for our elderly cat to help him get on/off the bed. Since then, all cats use the steps. 🙂
Dogs are funny! My cairn terrier mix Scout has a similar bed ritual. Usually around 3:30 in the morning when I get up to, well, “go,” he desires a transfer from his bed on the floor to our bed. However, when I try to pick him up he lays out flat and limp, making it very difficult to get his 25 pounds from the bed to the floor. We play this game nearly every night. When I travel, he does not do this with my husband.