The other day our dog wouldn’t stop barking because we’d gotten a delivery, so I told her, “Isa, stop barking at the delivery! I know it’s here, I’m getting it now, so you can stop telling me it’s here.”
When I opened the door, I saw the package was for L’s Mother from a place called “Katz,” and I didn’t even try to resist. I turned back to the dog (who was still barking), and told her, “Isa, stop barking at Katz!”
On a lighter note, Social Distancing Dog continues to be diligent in her patrols of our home’s perimeter, and while I admire her sense of duty, our “strange puppy from another kennel” needs better control over her “sonic alert” power.
I suspect I have already made abundantly clear my feelings regarding the girls’ love of dressing up the dog, but if you need clarification, suffice it to say that I don’t approve, but I recognize that my approval is not required. Even so, as I watch the dog prance around (and seemingly happily so, I will reluctantly admit) in a frilly canine “party dress,” I remind myself that it really could be worse.
At least she’s not wearing the dress that makes her look frumpy.
As a follow-up to last week’s “dog in a dress” post, while I remain unconvinced of the girls’ argument that “she likes it,” I will concede that Isa doesn’t seem to protest the treatment. On the other hand, I am personally pleased to note that Isa has made her feelings abundantly clear that she draws the line at wearing bows in her fur.
It’s funny how one can discover one’s limits. For instance, I have no problem scooping up a wiggling and yapping little dog and tucking her under one arm when I answer the door. But as I discovered yesterday, I will not answer the door like that when said dog has been dressed in a ballerina outfit by the girls.
If someone knocks on your door and your dog doesn’t bark, did the knock actually make a sound?
Recently my son was introduced to the concept of a “pet rock,” and is currently in class with his new “pet.”
I don’t really have a joke for this. I just wanted this event recorded.
Of course after creating a category for our dog, Isa, on Friday, today my son wants me to make an entry about her.
Okay then . . . let me see . . .
This wag is for Isa for not growling at me as I trimmed her nails over the weekend even though she hates having it done.
On those rare occasions when I write about Algiz the Sun Conure, he has his own category: Coos and Caws. When I mentioned him the other day, I also mentioned our dog, Isa, thus prompting my son to ask why she doesn’t have her own category as well.
I didn’t have a good answer for that, so Isa now has her own category: Wags and Growls.
(I looked into trying to continue the C and C alliteration theme, but couldn’t come up with something that wouldn’t have been painfully pretentious.)
