I love my dogs. I do. They’re loyal, friendly, sweet…and full of baloney. Not real baloney. But they live to be themselves. Once I think I have them sorted out, they do something I hadn’t expected.
My dog, for example. She’s only got one eye. She lost the other to glaucoma that got out of control. I guess it’s part of her breed. I still think that’s funny because she’s part basset and part beagle. Which part is her breed? Which part is the one to decide what she’ll genetically get?
But she’s only got one eye now. I have to be careful which side of her I stand on and I made sure to touch her back if I’m behind her so she knows I’m there. I still play games with her to make her hunt for me so her hunting skills – which she only uses to hunt me – are still sharp.
This post, though, is how she still amazes me. She’s 13 and down an eye, so that’s pretty amazing, but that’s not what I mean.
I woke up this morning to scratching and grunting. Both dogs are fixed so I knew it wasn’t that. What the heck was she doing? She’s got a dog bed and it’s pretty plush. It’s at the foot of my bed, so I know she has to be in the room. So I continue to hear the scratching, so I get up. I round the bed and there she is…half under the bed and stuck. She’d somehow wedged herself under the bed and was scratching to get out. How’d she get there? I’m not sure, but I’m guessing the big dog mushed the bed down just enough that she probably rolled while she slept. She’s a sound sleeper. She probably woke up thinking, gee, this is tight. I should get out of there. Then started scratching.
Needless to say, I got up earlier than I wanted, but I helped her get unstuck, so it was worth it.
And yes, that’s my pup in the picture this week. 🙂