Thursday, February 2, 2012

My Dogs Will Need Therapy

They don't need therapy now. Currently, they are perfectly content in their own little world. They have the run of the house and yard, and eat beautifully prepared meals (I use that term loosely, but The Husband performs this duty and spoils the living crap out of them). They even have their own room, for cryin' out loud! Assuming they ever spend any time in that room. 99% of the time they sleep with us, sit with us, hang out with us. Wherever we are, so are they....and all is well.

So why would two pampered pets need therapy?

Because they have no clue they are dogs. Please, I beg you, DON'T tell them! They'd be crushed. And, Lady, in particular, would be highly offended.

They are wonderful companions. Lady is a Boxer; Duchess is a pit/American bulldog mix; both are around two years old and were raised together. Lady lives up to her name; when it's cold or wet outside, she delicately places her paw in the grass, just to check, rejects that option, then does her business on the sidewalk (and, occasionally inside. See Sounds Heard at My House Over the Weekend for the gory details and bad language).

Unfortunately, she has no sense of personal boundaries, like an acquaintance who sees you at a party (while you are hiding behind a pillar to avoid him/her), thinks he/she a close friend, and proceeds to go into exhaustive detail about his/her latest disease/conquest/grandchild/whatever. No sense of personal space. At a chunky 85 pounds, Lady wants to sit in your lap....all the way in your lap. And up against your body. Facing you. With her paws on your shoulders. Then she just sort of leans into you for a hug. It's very sweet. And comforting, like slipping on an old pair of jeans. She will stay in your lap as long as you allow her. But 85 pounds of pure-d-dog leaning into you can only last so long. Besides, all that body heat just makes my hot flashes about a million times worse.

Miss Duchess, on the other hand, can be a little standoffish. She loves to be with us for a while, then slips off to our bedroom. Don't get me wrong, she adores attention, but needs "alone time" too. On the other hand, she is the more playful of the two, grabbing a toy and flaunting it in front of Lady. If she wins the tug-of-war (which she often does), she runs away with the toy, proclaiming her victory, and quickly returns to tease Lady once more. She's the speedy sleek one; Lady is the fluffy plodder (she's dieting). Duchess races around the house in a frenzy, flipping and turning; Lady watches the action, occasionally pivoting on her rear to get a better look.

They share two common traits. Whether for security or warmth is unknown, but they love to crawl under the covers of our bed and hunker down at our feet. We must prepare for this, however, because their actions create a tsunami effect: TV remotes and cell phones fly off the heaving bedspread if we aren't ready. They also love (OK, tolerate) dressing up. For Halloween, the four of us donned bee costumes and called ourselves a swarm.

Lady, the girlier of the two, prefers a tutu.
Lady loves her tutu, but was very upset about the creepy green eyes in this picture. She does NOT look like this normally, and desperately needs you to know that. Sadly, Mom couldn't fix it.
Needless to say, we love our girls. In spite of their obvious femininity, they have fierce, threatening barks and would, no doubt, die protecting us. They fill our lives with joy (sometimes frustration, like all children) and epitomize unconditional love. Their smiles light up my world. I can't imagine my life without them.

Just don't tell them they're dogs. I can't afford the therapy.

Do you have pampered pets? Have you bonded with an animal?

Have you been there?

1 comment:

  1. Oh, yes. I get this.

    My yellow lab, Abbie, passed away 3 years ago this Feb. I had her 15 years. She had no clue she was a dog.

    I was a bad mom, too. She was friendly, friendly. But I refuse to let her socialize with other dogs because, well...she'd come in and have that "dog" smell on her. When she was around 11 and I'd have her outside and another dog would come up to her to visit, she'd freeze in place, look at me and I swear sent me the question with her eyes: What is this thing sniffing at me??

    Had her own bed, sat in the front seat of my car, slept in bed with me when it rained, didn't wake up until she wanted, didn't like to get her "feet" wet in the dewy grass...oh, yeah. I get it.

    BTW...Lady and Duchess?? PRE-SHUS! You must have loads of fun with those babies!


Yes! I've been there, Claire!