The four-footed one has been keeping a careful eye on the neighbourhood. She knows when people are coming and going. She sees the cats slinking around the various bushes, waiting for the birds to abandoned the trees in favour of the ground. She keeps tabs on the garbage collectors, the mail being delivered and the children making their way noisily.
The four-footed shared her information. Not with me. Not necessarily because she doesn’t want to, but because we don’t share the same language. But when we are out and about visiting other dogs, she seems to share information. The same as when someone comes to ring the doorbell. She alerts her network of watchers, just in case.
Her network, unlike mine, is far-reaching and tight at the same time. But her network is not unbreakable. With the right offer of a distracting in the form of a delicious treat or perhaps a nice toy, a hole forms in this tight network.
Suddenky one of the watchers misses seeing something, and someone slips by unnoticed. There is a gap in the information pipeline leaving the potential for an unpleasant surprise or an unwanted visitor. Not that you can tell the four-footed one any of this. She believes her network is solid, because she forgets how a small thing can distract her or her friends for a period of time.
Around here we get up really early. Not because we want a worm. Not because we want to see the sunrise, although it is rather nice. Nope, around here we get up really early because we don’t want to miss a thing.
Around here we stay up really late. Not because we sleep all day, if we did that we’d miss something. Not because we have wild parties. Nope, around here we stay up really late because there is a moon and starts to watch in the night sky.
Around here we tend to be a little tired. Almost all the time. Some of us around here could nap, heck we start to nap, but we fight it. Because we don’t want to miss anything that happens around here.
And what sort of things happen around here, papers get finished, grades get entered, food gets made and consumed. Toys must be played with and floors mus be licked. Around here books get read, music is played and conversations happen. The happening so round here are ordinary, simple and not to be missed. That’s if you happen to have four-feet, keen sense of smell and vision not to mention excellent hearing. If you happen to have four-feet, you can ensure that the ones with two-feet follow the rules around here.
The four-footed one spends the bulk of her time on the floor. She does sleep on the bed with me, she is occasionally in my lap while I sit in a chair when she wants a cuddle or when she knows I’m unable to do much else. But other than that the bulk of her time is spent on the floor one way or another.
She has recently discovered the unfairness of the situation as I do not spend the bulk of my time on the floor. The floor is hard. The floor can be cold. And the floor can be hard to get up from. Somehow it seems that getting off the floor means climbing up a tall beanstalk to reach the surface.
And now the four-footed one has taken to insisting that I join her on the floor. She barks non-stop if I sit in a chair. She tugs on my hand, putting it in her mouth and pulling. She is determined and bull-headed and demanding. So I toss down a few large pillows to sit on because the floor is hard after all. But this does not make the four-footed one happy.
Not one bit. It does keep her quiet, but she is not satisfied. She tries to sneak up onto the furniture that I normally use. To her it is fair that I take her place on the floor and she takes over the furniture. Because sharing is not in her world evidently.
I don’t need an app to find my phone, I always know where it is (knock on wood). I do however need an app to remind me what I was walking into a room for when I get distracted! I would be all over that kind of app. If I remembered to install it and use it that is.
I don’t need to have an app help me find my friends either thank you very much. If I don’t know where they are, I can reach out to them and ask. It seems rather silly to say find friends when honestly you are reaching out to strangers. And there is a reason why the word stranger contains the word strange. As in unknown, or unusual. I mean we could go on, but you get the point.
And to be honest, I have no need to yell or talk to my phone or other device to get it to look up things for me. Or play music for me. I mean at if I’ve reached that point in my life where I can’t do those things on my own, I have bigger issues. Yeah okay so I guess I don’t have a busy life like some people. Or maybe I don’t want to reach the point where I forget how to do things simply because some app, program etc does everything for me.
You know the kind of app I really enjoy? A good appetizer. Made with great care and quality ingredients. I can get behind an app like that! 🙂
Apparently the four-footed one is a jealous companion. I did not know this before and if someone had asked me I would have never said yes and hesitated a great deal before saying maybe. It just never crossed my mind.
I know’ some of you are wanting to slap my head for me. How could I not see her being jealous since she’s spoiled rotten and is doted upon. Yes I know, what was I thinking!
The only reason I made this discovery is that while a visitor tried to get near where I was sitting to show me something, she insisted on placing herself between the other person and my body. Which could be seen as protective. Except than she also opted to paw at me for attention and demand a nice scratch behind her ears. Nothing protective about that.
Now as amusing as it is on some level, this behavior can’t continue for a number of reasons. I’ve tried ignoring her when she demands attention, but short of wearing chain mail I’m not sure ignoring her is ideal. No she hasn’t punctured my skin when she puts her teeth on me, but you never know.
Distract her with another toy? I tried that, so far she is not being distracted. Reward her when she’s doing what I want? Tried that too. The thing is the four-footed one is a stubborn as mule and bull-headed as well. (Although she’s all dog!) Clearly we have work to do!
The four-footed one has a new game. It’s called chase. Throughout the house. Non-stop. She discovered this little bit of fun when I took away her favourite towel. It needed to be washed. I assume she thought her towel was never coming back again.
When I took her towel to the washing machine she chased after me. After I put the towel in the washing machine and started it up, I headed to another area in the house. She chased after me. As if to say “hey about my towel? I think it’s drowning”.
As I carried on with other tasks she chased after me. When I out her towel into the clothes dryer she chased me and jumped, as if to grab her towel before it went into the dryer.
I cleaned out and rearranged her dog bed as best I could while being chased by the determined four-footed one. She chased me to get her towel out of the dryer. And then chased me to where the towel needed to be put on the floor.
You’d think we would be done this game of chase, but I picked up her toys to out them away and this just resulted in more chase. Now she is flopped comfortably on her bed and you’d never know I tried to do anything about this house today.
Tiny hands marvelled at rainbows on the wall. Fingers tried to touch the rainbows, but each time the hands got close the rainbows seemed to disappear. The owner of those tiny hands had not yet realized that the rainbows went off the walls onto the back of her hands. Hours of endless fun, fascination or perhaps short-term followed by the sleep of boredom.
I figured as long as she didn’t scream and cry it was all good. And it was, until the four-footed one decided to check out the wall. With her tongue. Which meant that the rainbows disappeared, basically into the dog’s fur. And a wet mark ended up on the wall. Evidently the removal of the rainbows or perhaps the wetness on the wall was not up to what my guest wanted.
Although young, she knows what she wants and what she wanted was clearly not the four-footed one licking her rainbows. Or maybe it was that she was told no when she tried to lick the walls. She was having none of the current state of things and made it known with loud shrieking which threatened to shatter the crystal vase which was making the rainbows in the first place.
Not even the removal of the four-footed one would make the defeating shriek stop. Nothing other than a cookie seemed to work. And of course once the cookie was gone, so were the rainbows. But sometimes that’s how the cookie crumbles.