As I was typing that, Stanley, jumped up on my chair just to make sure I was working.
This morning we had the usual nap after I exercised. I tried, I really did, to stay awake, but I gave up. This afternoon I was reading and he jumped up on my chair, got comfy and napped for an hour while I read.
I’m so grateful that Stanley came into my life. I read something recently that perfectly epitomized how I initially felt. The woman wrote that she needed a distraction to take her mind off how miserable her life was. You have to have a schedule with dogs. You have to feed them at a certain time, play with them, exercise them, and adjust to their needs. The act of having to tend to another creature pulls you out of yourself. Flash did that for me. So has Stanley.
The other day I turned off the ceiling fan in the bedroom. He barked at it for five minutes. When I started it up again a few hours later he barked at it some more. He doesn’t like mechanical things, as I’ve mentioned. The blender is a monster. So, too, the hand held blender. He hasn’t had a fit with the Keurig, though. Maybe it’s just the motor sounds of the other appliances.
The Kong cheese spray that I put into his Kong bone made a sputtering sound the other day. He ran from it like it was the devil himself. Now when I use it, he retreats into the dining room and growls.
Something else I read the other day resonated with me. Be thankful for gifts, however temporary they might be. In the case of animals, we know we’ll outlive most of them. When we take one into our lives there’s always a hint of loss and pain out there in the future. I would rather endure the pain than not have Flash and now Stanley in my life. True, furry gifts.
I talk to my dogs. In fact, I have long conversations with my dogs.
We discuss books, manuscripts, the wind, their habits, and sometimes people. Occasionally, we opine about politics.
Flash was the brilliant, silent type. He nodded sagely from time to time. Lovey, pre-Flash, was more a leaner than a talker. Whenever I talked to Lovey she came and leaned against me. My first dog as an adult, Lawana, was a terrier/chihuahua who always came and sat on my lap to stare at me as I was talking, almost as if she was trying to understand each word.
Stanley is a growling, barky listener. He has a lot of comments to offer. He knows time, too. Whenever 10:00 AM rolls around he comes to me and barks. It’s time for his B.O.N.E. now, please. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing. He will interrupt to tell me that I’ve messed up. It’s 10. Where’s the bone?
Unfortunately, this happened in San Antonio. Lord love a duck.
There have always been jokes about mailmen and dogs. Dogs are portrayed as hating mailmen. It’s easy to understand. A stranger is coming to the house. Full alert!
A San Antonio mailmen, however, decided to be proactive. He went to one house, where the dog was behind a fence, in the backyard. Then he went out of his way to pepper spray the poor dog who wasn’t posing a threat to him. Evidently, he didn’t realize that he was being captured on home video.
The owner is justifiably angry. Can you imagine? I would be foaming at the mouth.
Here’s a thoroughly idiotic quote from the U.S. Postal Service featured in Fares Sabawi’s article in mysanantonio.com: (Inconvenience? Really? Rolling my eyes a whole bunch.)
In a statement, a U.S. Postal Service official said they are working to “gather additional details about this incident.”
“Based upon our findings, appropriate corrective action will be taken,” the official said in the statement.
Mail carriers are equipped with a plant-based repellent, the official confirmed, but they “are always instructed to only use the deterrent with great discretion.”
“We apologize for any inconvenience this incident may have caused our customer,” the official said.
The study goes on to say that: “The study found that both cats and humans were equally disruptive to women’s sleep and provided them with fewer feelings of comfort and security than dogs.”
Unless you have a 24 pound Scottish Terrier mix who paints himself onto your derriere and moves when you move. Heaven forbid you want to sleep on your back. He’ll climb onto your front.
He also snores.
Nope, I go along with the Mayo Clinic/Arizona report (quoted in the same article) that found that people who slept with a dog in the bedroom got more rest than people who didn’t, but that having a dog in the bed with you could disrupt your sleep.
Stanley sleeps in the bathroom. I sleep in the bed. We both get along better that way. 🙂
This is the European website. (I think it’s German.) Evidently, they cater to a certain clientele. I’m not their demographic.
You know what Stanley played with last night? A box. He had the best time for a whole hour tearing apart a small box. The mess was astronomical, but he really enjoyed himself. I guess he’s not their demographic, either.