Top Dawg, Yo

Our 100 pound lap dog. She thinks she's a lap dog. I know this because she routinely tries to sit in our laps. She is getting on in age. Her hearing is betraying her. She barks at imaginary visitors and imaginary doorbells. She tucks tail at electronic beeping sounds and compressed air. These things are the anti-Christ to her. She has an affinity for the cardboard center of toilet paper rolls. They are her one true love. She takes great care in burying them in various parts of the backyard and only digs them out and brings them in the house on special occasions. She will dump out her water bowl and carry it to the center of the lawn, but only when we have company. I think it's her way of saying "hey you! I'm over here! Pay attention to me.", like my kids do with all the tugging of my shirt and the demands for my attention when I'm on the phone. She is a food stealer. Food cannot be left unsupervised. It can't even be left in the cupboard. The cupboard must be barricaded before the humans leave the house or the humans will come home to all of the contents strewn about the floor. She will also hide food in the couch. She buries it behind the pillows to save it for later. She seems rather fond of conveniently packaged snacks that go in the kids lunch boxes. Sometimes she will volunteer her guilt by making an appearance in the room with said snack package clenched in her muzzle. As if to say, "In case you were uncertain? I made this mess." She will sleep on our beds when we aren't home. We have to keep our bedroom doors shut. She knows how to open childproof safety latches on the kitchen cabinets. Quite a talent for an animal without opposing thumbs. She catches moths and eats them; like a cat. She has a thing about shaking hands. She likes to do it all the time. It's the only trick we ever taught her and she's a showoff.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because I just realized how dog proofing the house before I leave has become such an ingrained part of my daily routine, that I don't even notice it anymore. Why don't I put her outside? Because she HATES it out there. She hates to leave the house, period. Once when we had to board her so we could go on vacation, and I was getting ready to leave her at THE PLACE, she stood on her hind legs and wrapped her front paws around my neck as if to say, "wanna tango?". Or, "if you leave me here I will eat your face. I have sharp, pointy teeth, bitch". And that's our dog.