My left hand, especially the little finger, is exceedingly desirable. It is sought after. It is worshipped and adored. And no I’m not bragging as others aver witnessed this phenomena. After all it happens on a daily basis.
It starts when she comes to kiss may hand. She cannot stop with just a simply kiss as a greeting. She must cover my hand in kisses. Slowly she works her way to her favourite finger, the one she sucked on when she was a puppy. Now she licks it and gently nibbles on it.
If I take my hand away, she waits until she can gain access to it again. And since I have scrubbed it with soap and ever she must repeat this process of kissing the hand, licking the finger until she has been satisfied or she can’t reach it any more. Basically I take it away as I’m sure if I let her, she’d lick the skin clean off.
Now this hasn’t always been her thing. When she was a puppy she sucked on my finger for a few weeks. And then she stopped. It’s only the past couple of months she’s come back to my hand and her favorite finger. Nothing has changed on her life, however we have new neighbor’s who have a rather robust cat. Which wanders freely about, within her line of sight. The neighbors moved in about the same time as the hand worship service started up again.
Someone who is a small as a shoebox really shouldn’t be so full of fury as to scare full-grown adults away.
Someone who is as small as a shoebox shouldn’t, theory,be able to rattle the door and make the windows shake with such passion.
Someone the size of a shoebox should be, well, manageable for a full-grown adult.
Today someone the size of a shoebox managed to scare away the postal carrier with her jumping on snarling on the window and the door. The postal carrier had a parcel that required a signature. Not really a big deal. Except I was home alone with this shoebox sized creature. And I discovered that managing her while trying to open the door and sign for the parcel was, well, unmanageable.
So I bribed the four-footed one with a treat, out her in a room and signed for the parcel. Once I closed the door, I ran to get the four-footed one from th room I stuck her in. And realized that someone the size of the shoebox should not be underestimated. Because good things, strong things, come in small packages. Sometimes packages the size of shoeboxes. Now if I could just figure out how someone the size of an adult can’t manage this shoebox sized creature.
Today the four-footed one got n touch with her wild side. She careful observed the landscape, sight her prey and went after it like a professional. Of course her prey was already dead. But still.
Okay so the thing is she found three deceased mice today. In the yard. When we don’t have mice. They were delivered, via air. Thanks to the local birds.
I’m impressed with her sniffing skills. And I’m glad I stopped her from actually getting to the poor mice, because heaven knows what disease they may be carrying. Don’t worry friends, the bodies were disposed of with great respect and care.
Hopefully the air deliveries will stop because mice aren’t really on the menu here. Although the way the four-footed one behaves, you’d think she’s starved and mistreated. You’d think she scavenges for every morsel she gets due to no food in the house.
And I know her breed, historically at any rate, was considered to be ideal for getting rid of rodents. I also know certain things cannot be removed from genetics, nor would I want that as per say. I just wish she had a fear of mice and such so she’d give them a wide berth.
The four-footed one went to the spa today. A new spa at that. She seemed to enjoy her day and according ton the lady who greeted me there were no issues. Which is a huge relief because the last time at the groomers had the four-footed one anything but calm or relaxed.
But she looked like she didn’t mind her day at all. She got a nice bath, a new style, a pedicure (well her nails trimmed) and some treats. So from her point of view I guess the trade-off was worth it. She wasn’t even in a hurry to come and see me when I showed up to pick her up. Nope she was enjoying the attention from the staff.
Hopefully we’ve found the new spar or her. One where she can relax, get a massage when she has a bath, have her pedicure and get her coat sorted. And I can take her there without bribes or anything.
Time will tell I guess, but at any rate today was a win. And for people who don’t get it, going to the groomers is a big deal to most dogs. Finding one that isn’t too stressful is a wonderful thing.
The four-footed one encountered ice cream today. Dog ice cream. It wasn’t intentional on my part. I had to pick up some items for her and she likes to go to this one particular store. (The owners love her and spoil her rotten.)
Going to a dog store typically means the dog will get samples or treats. Apparently the human with the dog will then spend money, extra money mind you, on those treats which the dog just sampled. At least that’s the theory.
Frankly at this store, I’m pretty sure she gets enough treats, if I don’t put a stop to it, to become a full meal or two.
Anyway we went to the store and while I was getting what I needed she was given a sample of dog ice cream. Which looks like freeze-dried ice cream. And she, unlike her owner, is an ice cream kind of girl. She went through all of her tricks, including the hard ones, for ice cream rewards. She was shameless and proud. And when we left, she was full of ice cream for dogs.
Much to her disappointment I am sure, I did not purchase any of this ice cream. For the cord, it was a new treat and ey didn’t have for sale, so the store owner told me before I even asked.
There is something special about a uniform. It says you belong to a certain group. It sets you apart. And frankly I’m not a fan of them in general.
Sure for sports teams it makes sense. And yes I want law enforcement and emergency services to stand out. But beyond that? Not really.
However as much as I am not a fan of them, all of my dogs have detested a certain uniform. That uniform just happens to belong to the postal workers. I have no clue what it is about this particular uniform, but every dog I have had the chance to observe goes into barking mode upon sight of this uniform.
I can’t explain it. One of my puppies, upon first seeing a postal worker, across the street no less, started barking her head off. She did not do the same thing for the uniformed police officer. And this trend was something I could see in my other pups as they came into my life.
I feel bad for my mail carrier because the four-footed one loves to bark at him. And bark and bark. She can be in the house and he will be across the street and diagonal to her, and she will bark as if her life depends upon it. So maybe, just maybe we need to reconsider the uniform for these poor people. Something that doesn’t demand a barking storm.
The four-food one is not a fan of homework. She also isn’t a fan of housework, but that’s a whole other story.
Now the four-footed one does not eat homework. She doesn’t shred it or dig a hole to hide it in. Which is a huge relief because the homework I have is marking students papers and assignments. I’m not sure how well it would go over if I told my students that I wanted to grade their work, but the dog ate it all.
What the four-footed does is try to demand my attention every time she notices I’m reading papers. If m trying to submit marks or comments online, she will happily step between my laptop screen and face. Yes I know, we may have an obedience problem.
So I’ve started to be sneaky about things, getting one of those food puzzle things for her to do. However the only time I dig it out is when I’m marking, grading or commenting on papers, assignments etc. Or I give her a special treat, he that will last her a relatively long time so I can get on with what I was doing.
This may, or may not, be a smart thing to do on my part, but for now it works. And it lets me do my homework without needing to provide a dog of an excuse!