Zoey

Archive for February, 2011|Monthly archive page

Couch Surfing

In All About Me, Center of attention, Dog communication, Play time, What's important, Who's Alpha DOG? on February 27, 2011 at 8:54 am

I am glad Shelley finished with her novel. That means she’ll have more time to spend with me. I am trying to give her the message that she spends too much time working, but she’s not getting it.

She comes home at 5 or 6 every night, puts her bag on the floor and calls for me. She finds me either in the living room or on her bed (I mean our bed) and gives me kisses and lots of pets.

But then she puts something in the microwave or she does something that doesn’t involve me. In response, I hide under the bed or the couch and put my head on my paws, staring out at her feet. I see her face as she gets on her hands and knees.

“Are you going to come out? Do you want to go on a walk?”

“No,” I tell her with my eyes.

Even so, she’s tricked me by eating cheese and, of course, I come out, and she gives me a piece and as I start to chew, she grabs me and puts on my harness and leash. Or she throws a ball, and I chase it and out comes the leash.

The whole problem that I have is we do things when Shelley wants to do them, like when we go on walks. It’s not like she understands that when we wake up in the morning, I don’t want her to leave. I want her to play with me or take me places where I can play with other people and get their kisses all day long. For a couple of hours, we do go on walks and visit dog-friendly places, but for a short time measured against the many hours of her disappearance.

I don’t like that she’s making the rules, which goes against my alpha dog status. So under the couch I go to pout.

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Paw Poetry

In First poem on February 13, 2011 at 10:50 am

I wrote a poem:

What I see every day you don’t

With your busyness and wanting to be

Something important

I get to lie my head down on my paws,

Look out the window

Bark at passersby,

Mostly dogs,

As I blog about life,

Not caring that what I say

Means something extravagant

Just a simple thought

That I’m okay just lying here

Dreaming.

A Ghost Story

In Family stories, Ghosts, Loud barks, My family on February 6, 2011 at 10:32 am

Zoey is not up to writing this week, so I’m writing in her place. She’s experiencing a bit of doggy depression. She always does after company leaves.

My dad visited this past weekend.

When he arrived, Zoey gave him a five-minute hello with the constant tail thump, all-over-his-face kisses and body-consuming wiggles. She wanted his pets and his attention, which had to be short-lived during his two-day stay.

At bedtime, she couldn’t decide, at first, who to curl up against. She eventually picked me, her regular sleep buddy, only to jump off the bed and bark at one corner of my room, as she had been for the past three days.

I got scared, because my dad had told me she had done the same thing at his house, maybe, as my dad jokingly said, because of a ghost. One night, my dad saw a strange floating face in the house that was built in the early 1900s. He said it likely was a hallucination from his extreme exhaustion. But when Zoey started barking at a certain corner of the living room, he said maybe she, too, was seeing the “ghost.”

My dad and I, however, don’t believe in ghosts, though I also believe that there is the possibility …

Zoey started up her corner barking that night, resulting in my getting chills, thinking about my dad’s “ghost story.” I got my dad up, asking, “What if it really is a ghost?”

An hour or so later after more of Zoey’s off-and-on, late-night barking, my dad said, “Hey, when did your landlords install the garage heater?”

I had mentioned the heater earlier in the evening to explain why I kept the apartment a little warmer than I wanted, but now could turn it down a couple of degrees.

“That’s your ghost,” my dad said.

Oh. I felt quite silly.

In my family, it’s already become one of those stories that we like to tell and retell, laughing at memories of our growing up years.

Yep, I have a story and it has a ghost in it. Or not.

Plus, I have a sad little puppy.