#39: A Good Dog Story or Two
Have I talked enough about our dog yet? Probably. But these days its either all about the puppy or all about the wedding and I've already managed to obsess here about our distressing lack of officiant involvement, and nothing has really changed on that front, so I figured it was time for a good dog story or two.
Back a few days ago, Pokie-dog and I walked down the sidewalk, happy as clams. Oakley swung the leash that connected us, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, jogging his little puppy-jog that makes his floppy ears bounce around at a dangerous level of adorable. As we passed one of the ground-level apartments, there was a crash - something large made contact with the window from the inside. Barking and some fairly intense growling followed, and I could see two rather large dogs jumping at the glass of the patio door, as if they were trying to make their escape and gorge on our carcasses. Oakley, however, seemed unfazed and kept trotting along, occasionally sniffing the ground, smiling his puppy-dog smile, oblivious of the canine chaos erupting mere feet from us.
Next door to the terrible beasts was a little smiling old woman, tending to her flower box. I smiled at her, and she smiled at me and then at my dog. Then my dog, the dog who was unfazed by the fierce barks and crashes that continued next door, saw the little old woman and began to growl. All of the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his ears flattened against his head. He bared his teeth at this little old woman and lunged - growling, snarling, ready to attack. Luckily I had a good hold of the leash and was able to quickly drag him down the road as I shouted my apologies to the little old woman who looked at me, repulsed.
Big scary dogs? Of no concern to my dear Oakley. But little old ladies who look ready to invite you in for a spot of tea and perhaps a freshly baked cookie? They are the enemy. Old ladies and kittens - the new threats to our society. Oh and balloons. The dog haaaaaaates balloons and the suspicious way they bob up and down along the ceiling. The one and only time a balloon entered our apartment, Oakley threw such a HUGE fit that we had to banish the balloon to the bathroom, where he couldn't see it. For weeks after the balloon had deflated and been thrown away, he still barked and growled every time we opened the bathroom door.
We have a strange dog.
Sir was out of town a lot last month, so Oakley and I spent a lot of quality time together. This led me to find out that our dog is not only weird, but damn demanding. He stands at my feet in the kitchen and demands whatever I'm cooking by making this "rrrah, rrrah, rrrah" half-bark and wagging his tail, like "I'm asking nicely, now GIMME." Oakley is also very vocal about when he wants to go out on our balcony. Like most dogs, I'm sure, he'll stand at the door for awhile and stare at us. If we make no move to open the door he barks, if we ignore vocalizations, our 45-pound bundle of love pounces on top of us on the sofa (resulting in my almost losing the "i" and "o" key off this keyboard. Luckily Sir still knows how to fix stuff). Because it's been chilly here, when Oakley finally gets let outside, very often he only lasts a few minutes before he's scratching at the door to get back in. But apparently dogs' short-term memories aren't that great because in another couple of minutes, he's barking to go out again. It's a really fun game for us to open and close the damn door every 5 minutes. This is why we usually just leave it open. And crank the heat up to 76.
Oh, and we've also started letting him sleep up on the bed with us.
Dog: 538, Humans: 0
We like to call him our little tyrant.
(also note: world's ugliest couch)
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Back a few days ago, Pokie-dog and I walked down the sidewalk, happy as clams. Oakley swung the leash that connected us, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, jogging his little puppy-jog that makes his floppy ears bounce around at a dangerous level of adorable. As we passed one of the ground-level apartments, there was a crash - something large made contact with the window from the inside. Barking and some fairly intense growling followed, and I could see two rather large dogs jumping at the glass of the patio door, as if they were trying to make their escape and gorge on our carcasses. Oakley, however, seemed unfazed and kept trotting along, occasionally sniffing the ground, smiling his puppy-dog smile, oblivious of the canine chaos erupting mere feet from us.
Next door to the terrible beasts was a little smiling old woman, tending to her flower box. I smiled at her, and she smiled at me and then at my dog. Then my dog, the dog who was unfazed by the fierce barks and crashes that continued next door, saw the little old woman and began to growl. All of the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his ears flattened against his head. He bared his teeth at this little old woman and lunged - growling, snarling, ready to attack. Luckily I had a good hold of the leash and was able to quickly drag him down the road as I shouted my apologies to the little old woman who looked at me, repulsed.
Big scary dogs? Of no concern to my dear Oakley. But little old ladies who look ready to invite you in for a spot of tea and perhaps a freshly baked cookie? They are the enemy. Old ladies and kittens - the new threats to our society. Oh and balloons. The dog haaaaaaates balloons and the suspicious way they bob up and down along the ceiling. The one and only time a balloon entered our apartment, Oakley threw such a HUGE fit that we had to banish the balloon to the bathroom, where he couldn't see it. For weeks after the balloon had deflated and been thrown away, he still barked and growled every time we opened the bathroom door.
We have a strange dog.
Sir was out of town a lot last month, so Oakley and I spent a lot of quality time together. This led me to find out that our dog is not only weird, but damn demanding. He stands at my feet in the kitchen and demands whatever I'm cooking by making this "rrrah, rrrah, rrrah" half-bark and wagging his tail, like "I'm asking nicely, now GIMME." Oakley is also very vocal about when he wants to go out on our balcony. Like most dogs, I'm sure, he'll stand at the door for awhile and stare at us. If we make no move to open the door he barks, if we ignore vocalizations, our 45-pound bundle of love pounces on top of us on the sofa (resulting in my almost losing the "i" and "o" key off this keyboard. Luckily Sir still knows how to fix stuff). Because it's been chilly here, when Oakley finally gets let outside, very often he only lasts a few minutes before he's scratching at the door to get back in. But apparently dogs' short-term memories aren't that great because in another couple of minutes, he's barking to go out again. It's a really fun game for us to open and close the damn door every 5 minutes. This is why we usually just leave it open. And crank the heat up to 76.
Oh, and we've also started letting him sleep up on the bed with us.
Dog: 538, Humans: 0
We like to call him our little tyrant.
(also note: world's ugliest couch)
Labels: Oakie-Pokie-Pumpkin-Head
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posted by Sun at 11:41 AM
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