Tag Archives: dogs

Canine Curling


Your dog is smarter than my dog.

I know this because my dog is the dumbest dog living.

Our neighbors are having a yard sale this morning. Lots of cars coming and going, doors slamming, muffled voices from the driveway.

These are all signs our dog (naturally) associates with my wife and I coming home from work. And our dog is the quintessential Attention Whore Dog (AWD for brevity ahead). She has to be in the same room with us at all times. If we step out on the back porch, even just to take out the trash or hose out a litter box, so must she. Going to the bathroom? She’s coming with you (though thankfully she’ll dutifully stop before coming in, and wait with her nose on her paws for you to come out). Headed to the kitchen? She’s on your tail with hers wagging. Cleaning house? She’ll follow you from room to room, simultaneously keeping you in view while keeping her distance from the vacuum cleaner.

All of which is to say that when we come home from leaving her alone all day, she’s a little keyed-up to see us. She greets us at the door, bounding all over the place, sniffing at our crotches, bashing her nose into our low-hanging hands. And she knows to do this when she hears the sounds that indicate we’re coming through the front door: cars grinding to a stop. Doors whumping shut. Muffled voices from the driveway.

And like I said, the neighbors are having a yard sale today — so she’s been hearing those sounds on repeat all morning. So she’s been in a perpetual state of getting revved up to see us without the payoff of actually seeing us so she can let it out and calm down.

But that’s understandable. She’s a dog. She doesn’t know the difference between strangers making those noises and us making them. Here’s why she’s dumb.

When she gets hyped up or stressed out, she doesn’t do typical dog things. She doesn’t chew up our shoes or shred couch cushions or pillows (and I guess we should be thankful for that). She just runs around. She darts from place to place, shoves herself into the tiniest spaces she can find (under the dresser, into the back of the closet, behind the toilet, etc), stays there for about five seconds, then finds a new place. And she forgets how big she is during these forays. So she’ll knock over chairs, rattle glassware on counters, upend lamps.

And for some reason, she’ll dig into her food bowl and just spread it all over the place.

I don’t understand this. It seems like it can only inconvenience her. But it happens every time she gets stressed — we find kibble all over the kitchen, and I do mean all over the kitchen. It’s like she’s playing puppy shuffleboard with it. Or canine curling. (Oh man, just picture it.)

So, needless to say, I found the kitchen just swamped with kibble when I got back to the house this morning.

Fortunately for her, she’s too cute to kill.

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What do you think? Is your dog dumber than mine? You’re wrong, but I’d love to hear about it.

This post is part of Stream-of-Consciousness Saturday.

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My Dog’s Stream-of-Consciousness on a Stormy December Night


*snores*

*whimpers*

*chases imaginary bunnies through imaginary fields of fluff*

(a light misting begins outside)

*wakes up*

Woorf? What’s that? *gets up, pads around the room* *sniffs at the door* *sniffs at the window* Noise outside. Probably an intruder. Better see if the humans wake up. *waits for the humans to wake up* Humans not waking up. *stares at humans some more* *nudges human’s foot* *waits some more*

Hmm. Guess it’s nothing.

*goes back to sleep*

(rain intensifies to a moderate sprinkle)

*wakes up*

Humans, do you hear that? *gets up, scampers around the room* *sniffs at the door* Nobody out here. Better bump it to make sure. *bumps the door* Hello? Cats out there? Hello? *bumps door again* What is that noise? *peers out the window* Woorf, it’s dark. Can’t see anything. Better see if the humans wake up. *waits for humans to wake up* Humans not waking up. *stares at humans* Maybe if I bump the bed, they’ll wake up. *bumps bed*

(my wife throws a pillow at the dog)

WOOF HEY YOU’RE AWAKE THERE’S THIS NOISE OUTSIDE AND I’M NOT SURE WHAT IT IS BUT I THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT IT AND…

(we are asleep again)

Humans?

Me: (mumbling) Shut up, dog.

That… that noise, though? It’s okay? Okay.

*goes back to sleep*

(rain intensifies to a bona-fide light rain)

*wakes up*

HUMANS? That noise is louder now. *sniffs the door* *looks out the window* I can’t tell what it is, but it’s definitely louder. Don’t you hear that? WAKE UP. *stares at sleeping humans* Maybe if I run five laps around the room, they’ll wake up. *scrabbles around the room seven or eight times [dogs can’t count]* Humans? *stares at humans who are determinedly pretending to sleep* Okay fine, I’m hiding from the noise in your closet.

*burrows into the clothes hamper*

GUYS? I CAN STILL HEAR THE NOISE IN HERE.

*burrows deeper, scattering clothes everywhere*

IT’S REALLY FREAKING ME OUT OKAY?

*flings a few more shirts around for good measure*

I’ll just wait here until the noise goes away.

*goes to sleep*

(rain continues)

*wakes up*

HUMANS HOW CAN YOU SLEEP WITH THAT NOISE GOING ON, I SURE CAN’T *jumps out of the hamper, scatters the rest of the clothes* I’m going to hide behind the toilet for some reason *clack-clack-clacks into the bathroom* WHOA IT’S LOUDER IN HERE that’s kind of scary I’m going to chew some toilet paper, I hope that helps *devours half of a roll and makes a nest out of the rest* whoa that looks comfy, maybe if I cloak myself in it I can protect myself from the noise *wallows in the scraps, gets most of them stuck to her body* This is fun as hell but it isn’t actually helping. HUMANS I NEED YOU *stares, covered in toilet paper, at humans, who are resolutely, definitely sleeping or at least trying to* HUMANS *takes a lap around the room* HUMANS *takes a lap in the other direction* HUMANS I THINK IT’S OUT THERE IT’S GONNA GET ME *bashes the door a few times* *stares at humans*

Okay, whatever, hope we all die.

*goes to sleep*

(rain is now a meager shower)

*wakes up*

HUMANS WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU DON’T YOU HEAR THAT

*runs about twenty laps around the room* HEY *runs about thirty laps in the opposite direction* HUMANS HELP *flings more dirty laundry around* HUMANS I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME *clacks into the bathroom* Ooh cat litter I’m gonna chomp some of that, that sure seems like a good use of my time right now *chomps some cat litter, LOUDLY* Woo that was refreshing, now back to business HEY HUMANS WAKE UP *more laps* WAKE UP *more laps* HUMANS *laps* HUMANS *laps* HUUUUUUMMMMAAAAANNNNNSSS

(Finally I give up and wake up)

Oh thank DOG you’re awake, did you hear that noise? Do you hear it? It’s going on right now, right outside the door and the window and the everywhere, I dunno what it is but I’m —

(I lead the dog out of the room)

Hey, yeah, it’s out here, how did you know? COME ON I’LL SHOW YOU

(I follow the dog downstairs)

THIS WAY HUMAN LET’S GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS

(I follow the dog to the porch door)

YEAH IT’S OUT THERE I CAN SEE IT, CAN YOU SEE IT? I CAN SEE IT IT’S RIGHT THERE

(I open the door)

*stands there, frozen to the spot*

…Oh, it’s just rain? That’s … that’s a surprise.

Me: (groggily) Well? We’re up. Go ahead. Go pee.

You … what? You want me to go out in that?

Me: (growing impatient) I didn’t follow you down here to not let you go out. Go out. GO.

*whimpers and heavy-foots it out onto the porch, then turns right back around*

It’s raining out here, dude. Come on. This ain’t cool.

Me: (really angry now) Oh, you don’t have to go pee? Dammit, dog. Let’s go.

THANK GOODNESS. It’s cold out, too.

*gleefully leads the human back upstairs*

Oh look, my bed. Man, that looks comfortable. It’s a mess in here, though. Watch your step. I might have knocked that lamp over.

*goes back to sleep*

(rain slows for fifteen minutes, then picks up again)

*wakes up*

OMG WHAT IS THAT?

#

#

#

Yeah, that’s my dog. It’s worse when there’s thunder. So much worse.

Bloody idiot.

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Traumatized.


The Importance of Routine


I am quickly learning the importance of routine to — I want to say any creative endeavor, but I will err on the side of not being an overgeneralizing jerkstore and say — this particular project of mine. No matter what I do, it seems I have had and certainly will have good days and bad. Days when the stream of words from the spigot rushes out like the water punching through that wall at the end of Temple of Doom, and days when the stream dries up and the handle falls off and a tumbleweed blows past and there’s a bleached cow skull in the middle distance. Nonetheless, routine helps me to encourage the flow (I’m picturing a metaphor with a middle-aged dude in a suit standing over a urinal, saying to his dinger, “come on man, just a few drops,” but nah, I will take the high road and not go down that path. OOPSIE).

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