Special Note: Watch for me at 10:00, Tuesday, 12/2/08, on WSPA-TV7's "Your Carolina with Jack and Kimberly. Bill and I are promoting our twin anthologies, The Ultimate Dog Lover and The Ultimate Cat Lover.
Everything I know in life, I learned from the dog.
I learned that no matter what time in the night you get up to answer the call of nature, it's Bowser's breakfast time.
I learned that even if you leave your new sneakers outside for a month in heat and rain and the occasional tornado force wind, the treads will wear off before puppy poop will.
I learned that if you give each of two dogs a rawhide chip of the exact same dimensions, one will hide theirs and steal the one from the other dog. And then lie about it.
I learned that if you have one molecule of doggie treat left in your pocket from three winters and six drycleanings ago, a good scent hound can tell how big the molecule is, what flavor it used to be, and exactly which pocket contains the treat.
I learned that when it comes to doggie treats, every dog is a good scent hound.
I learned that in a fight between one huge, giant dog and one tiny, petite dog, the tiny dog has nothing to lose.
I learned that one pair of liquid brown eyes staring longingly at your face while you eat can be endearing. Two pairs are simply annoying.
I learned that a huge, giant dog may find new uses for a tiny, petite dog’s water dish. It’s a finger bowl. It’s a shot glass. It’s a frisbee.
I learned that two dogs are as adept at playing the "He touched me first" game as two brothers.
I learned that if you have a dog and get a new puppy, the puppy will want to be friends. The older dog will want to give the puppy to wandering bands of gypsies.
7 comments:
Awww. I want a puppy so badly!
Which is precisely why we only have one dog now.
She-who-must-be-obeyed has us well trained. No treat goes un-detected. Looking longingly at the top of the fridge and whining ever-so-softly will result in a rawhide chew Every.Single.Time.
Oh so true... :)
So very true
Ah..I miss my old dog back at my parents. You just walk into the kitchen (at any time) and she runs over to her bowl. And waits. And glares at you when you say it's not time.
Dogs. They own us.
I'm still feeling the love from tripping over Esme at 4:15am to let her out, landing on my butt and waking the baby then crawling to the door while she licked my face in apology. The dog - not the baby. Esme went out for about 10 minutes, long enough to forget about doing her business and chase a squirrel, then come back in and poop on the downstairs carpet.
I want a cat.
This is so true, and we've seen them all. Except we started with the puppy and then adopted the older dog, and I think the older one wanted to run away to the gypsies after he met the baby. :) Same difference.
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