a la peanut butter bicycles
Louie Dog came to us as a grouchy two-year-old with a vague history of a life lived on the streets. Other and I agree that he would be more comfortable than most dogs living in a junkyard, provided there were someone there to towel him off carefully should it rain.
Jane Dog, however, came to us before her little brain put together that objects did not cease to exist outside her immediately appreciable reality. She was about 5 weeks old.
While Lou sees bones, biscuits, and dog food as possibly the LAST things of that nature he will ever be provided, and suspends all non-crucial life activities and bodily functions until they are GONE, INSIDE HIM WHERE YOU CANNOT REACH, Jane sees all of these things as things with which she can torture Lou. Which really works very well.
They got fancy bones yesterday, and Lou ate his with almost disgusting speed. About half of Jane's is left, and she slept downstairs last night, ON the bone, to protect it. She will do things like set it two inches in front of Lou, and then jump on his head if he dares to look at it. He learned not to dare a long time ago.
We are tired of the Jane Dog Dominance Display, and the treats get taken away if she doesn't just settle down and eat them already. Meanwhile, Lou is reduced to sniffing around the site of his bone extravaganza, sifting the carpet fibers to find any remaining bits of sweet, sweet rawhide. We don't know where he got the rolled-up twenty, though.
Jane Dog, however, came to us before her little brain put together that objects did not cease to exist outside her immediately appreciable reality. She was about 5 weeks old.
While Lou sees bones, biscuits, and dog food as possibly the LAST things of that nature he will ever be provided, and suspends all non-crucial life activities and bodily functions until they are GONE, INSIDE HIM WHERE YOU CANNOT REACH, Jane sees all of these things as things with which she can torture Lou. Which really works very well.
They got fancy bones yesterday, and Lou ate his with almost disgusting speed. About half of Jane's is left, and she slept downstairs last night, ON the bone, to protect it. She will do things like set it two inches in front of Lou, and then jump on his head if he dares to look at it. He learned not to dare a long time ago.
We are tired of the Jane Dog Dominance Display, and the treats get taken away if she doesn't just settle down and eat them already. Meanwhile, Lou is reduced to sniffing around the site of his bone extravaganza, sifting the carpet fibers to find any remaining bits of sweet, sweet rawhide. We don't know where he got the rolled-up twenty, though.
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