It is a bit of a trick to word-process with a yard of dog draped across my lap. Jon’s project has reached the main floor. He is in fact working on the other side of my studio wall, where T and I are holed up. It sounds like the dental office from hell. Theodore has a broad spectrum of terrors, but today addresses all of them. His little heart is pounding and he keeps trying to dial the OSPCA.
Before the drill started up, he had already sensed the imminent apocalypse and had moved into the studio to join me out here. (Does my limited painting output make more sense now?) Somehow he managed to wedge himself under the low stool with only the tip of his nose to give him away. His mantra (“Get me outta here!”) proved an insufficient talisman so he had no option but to scale my legs to safety.
Like many cowards, Theodore covers by trying to appear tough. He has never learned to trust other dogs so his canine social skills are embarrassingly insufficient. Inevitably, after exchanging nose bumps and intimate sniffing, he lets out a pre-emptive bark and mortally offends the would-be friend. Yesterday the nicest little chihuahua responded with a long penetrating gaze and a dignified exit. Theodore gives me his what-the-hell? stare and then shrugs, victim to the end.
Despite his best efforts, he is fearsome only with lawn ornaments and me. There is a particularly hideous plastic animal on our walk. It is only 10 “ high and a foot long, purporting to be a bear, I think. Theodore freezes when it comes into sight, stares back as bravely as he can manage, barks fiercely, and then picks up the pace, checking behind him for a whole block. That it has never moved does not comfort him. Theodore knows that this malevolent beast is simply biding its time before staging a fatal attack on innocent Skye terriers.
The best offence is reserved for me. Thirteen months later, he still worries that I will come between him and his Beloved Jon. More than once, I have bent over to kiss his nose and found a rectangle of white teeth instead, so Plan B is launched: I ask HIM for a kiss, which he always delivers immediately. l. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, Theodore usually forgets what he was upset about. If, however, the toothy presentation doesn’t exit the stage, I simply start scaling his teeth and for whatever reason, he lets me.
I wonder if that would work with POTUS.
Before the drill started up, he had already sensed the imminent apocalypse and had moved into the studio to join me out here. (Does my limited painting output make more sense now?) Somehow he managed to wedge himself under the low stool with only the tip of his nose to give him away. His mantra (“Get me outta here!”) proved an insufficient talisman so he had no option but to scale my legs to safety.
Like many cowards, Theodore covers by trying to appear tough. He has never learned to trust other dogs so his canine social skills are embarrassingly insufficient. Inevitably, after exchanging nose bumps and intimate sniffing, he lets out a pre-emptive bark and mortally offends the would-be friend. Yesterday the nicest little chihuahua responded with a long penetrating gaze and a dignified exit. Theodore gives me his what-the-hell? stare and then shrugs, victim to the end.
Despite his best efforts, he is fearsome only with lawn ornaments and me. There is a particularly hideous plastic animal on our walk. It is only 10 “ high and a foot long, purporting to be a bear, I think. Theodore freezes when it comes into sight, stares back as bravely as he can manage, barks fiercely, and then picks up the pace, checking behind him for a whole block. That it has never moved does not comfort him. Theodore knows that this malevolent beast is simply biding its time before staging a fatal attack on innocent Skye terriers.
The best offence is reserved for me. Thirteen months later, he still worries that I will come between him and his Beloved Jon. More than once, I have bent over to kiss his nose and found a rectangle of white teeth instead, so Plan B is launched: I ask HIM for a kiss, which he always delivers immediately. l. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, Theodore usually forgets what he was upset about. If, however, the toothy presentation doesn’t exit the stage, I simply start scaling his teeth and for whatever reason, he lets me.
I wonder if that would work with POTUS.
RSS Feed
