Zoey

Archive for July, 2011|Monthly archive page

Barking for My Boundaries

In Big dogs, Table top decor, Woof! Woof! on July 31, 2011 at 7:00 am

I definitely have boundaries to guard my property, which is the two feet of space around me, whether I’m on the patio or sitting atop a table at a coffee shop with my pet owner Shelley.

I guard my boundary against big dogs and small dogs, because I want to show that in my mind I am big.

Granted, I am a 9-pound miniature dachshund, but size doesn’t matter.

What matters is the strength of my loud, sharp bark.

As I bark, I wag my tail, but I don’t think the other dogs get that I’m being nice. I’m not telling them “no” and “go away.” What I’m saying is “hello” and “come here and play.”

For example, when I want Shelley to play with me, I stare at her and bark a loud snap into the air. She sometimes tells me, “I’m busy.” But if I keep at it, she’ll give in and play tug-of-war or fetch or just pet me. I think she does so because she wants me to be quiet.

What she doesn’t know is that I’ve figured her out. Even though I understand that three finger snaps and “No bark!” means I should stop, I don’t. The worse thing that happens is I go into timeout, and it’s not so bad napping in the bathroom.

Anyway, it’s great because even though Shelley tells me “no” about playing, she relents and I win.

Basically, I get to bark and play, too. Or put another way, I get my bone and get to eat it, too.

Bark!

And BARK! BARK!

Staging Pets

In All About Me, Center of attention, Pet me on July 24, 2011 at 12:28 pm

I am always in the now, but that’s because I’m a dog.

The last thing I am is shy. That’s because I need people to pet me.

I’m not afraid of the stage either. It’s all around me, wherever I am. I prance as I walk. Or I look ahead, scoping out those who will pet me. I slow when we cross paths, wagging my tail and panting. If they stop, I am the center of attention, at least for a few minutes.

If I’m on a table at a coffee shop, I look around and if people are approaching, I sit up straighter, wiggle a little and stretch out my neck, as if saying, “Here’s your personal invitation to pet me.”

And boy do I get the pets. But that’s not all. It’s like I’m hearing inquiries for autographs. “She’s so cute!” “Is she a puppy?” (Actually, I’m 2 and ½, but I show my age well). And, “Is she a purebred?” (Well, of course, I want to say as I stick my snout in the air, but I don’t because of my good manners).

Even a few people have requested to take my photograph, because, get this, I am so darn cute.

Shelley, my pet owner, says “yes” of course.

Those lucky bastards, capturing my image for posterity. So has Shelley, who has two photo albums filled with photos of me! Me! Wow!

Runway Run

In Dog Model, please, Seeking attention on July 17, 2011 at 5:28 pm

I am holding a cute pose as I look out the window.

Shelley, my pet owner, should put me in a modeling contest, kind of like what she did on Saturday. She had made the first cut and participated in a fashion show to see if she’ll make the second to go on to nationals. She’ll find out in three weeks if she’ll actually be a model.

What she doesn’t know is I already am one, or have the potential bursting out as I run.

You should see how I move with my four legs tapping on the floor as I fly, my ears flopping and my eyes sparkling.

When it comes to the pivot turn, I skid my paws and circle, sliding on the wood floor to change direction with the grace of a swan paddling its feet.

I have a stance, too, where I hold perfectly still while waiting for my harness and leash. Even after it’s on, I stay that way, waiting for Shelley to grab her purse.

Attitude, that too is part of modeling, and, yes, I have it. It’s in my loud bark. It’s in the scratching I do when I want Shelley to pick up something off the floor. It’s in the lift of my head as I look down the street from my stance on the coffee shop table Shelley should claim as hers. I hold myself that way in anticipation of getting petted.

And that, too, is the final proof you need that I am super model dog. I am so cute and irresistible that strangers stop on the street just to touch me and tell Shelley about my appearance.

So, as you see, I am ready to sign on the dotted line to model for dog food, dog toys and anything that a company needs to sell. Because, darn it, I’ll get everyone’s attention!

Doggie Album

In All About Me, Photo album on July 10, 2011 at 7:00 am

I thought I would post some photos this week to demonstrate just how cute I am.

I am hanging out with my best bear friend.

 

I know, I know, I look like a canine super model.

 

I'm adorable even when I sleep.

 

I told you I'm a 10 on the cuteness scale.

Just a Bar Dog

In Going on walks, Going to bars on July 3, 2011 at 7:00 am

I think there should be bars for dogs.

On our walks, I try to go into the bars onFourth Street(there are five of them in my little city), not just for a couple of pets, but to be lifted onto a stool where I can sit for a spell.

Typically, Shelley tugs on my leash, urging me on, but I dig in my paws. I’m staying! Heads turn, and I hear, “Isn’t she cute?” I scoot onto the bar patios to make my rounds, stopping at each set of high heels or tennis shoes to get pets. And it works.

Sometimes the brushing over my fur is rough.

Some of it is quick, almost as if an obligation to pet me and get it over with.

A few of them slide smooth hands along my back, making me feel like a cat as I arch my back into the ecstasy of being touched.

“She’s so soft,” they say.

If I can stay just a little while to get to know the petters, I get a small number of kisses, or I give them.

I could be the bar dog who gets attention every time I go out. I could stay for awhile, going up to each person in the bar to get their pets, their stroking of my ego. I wouldn’t need drink, like humans, just the sense that I was somewhere I belonged.

It’s my way of seeking compliments, of hearing that I’m cute. That I matter.