Sunday, February 13, 2011

The bed that survived

Tinky-Winky is a great shredder of blankets. She went through five in our first four years together, and I mean "through". And through and through and through. Plus some really good quality towels that I was using as a draft stopper and she mistook for a dog bed.

Being the perfect dog she is, though, she never goes through my blankets. Occasionally she'll inadvertently tear my comforter a bit, but she never goes to town on my stuff like she does on her own.

Anyway, about a year and a half ago, I took her last un-shredded blanket, folded it in four, stuffed it with all the stuffing from two comforters (one queens, one double) that I had given her and she had destroyed, and sewed the sides shut.

Miraculously, she still has that bed. No holes or tears in it. And she sleeps on it all the time. She actually stopped sleeping on the couch ever since she's had that bed. She rarely even sleeps on my bed anymore. She does still have some shredded remains of her own blankets that she likes to shred even more when the mood strikes her, but she doesn't shred her bed.

I guess she must really like it.

Friday, February 11, 2011

She's that cute

On our regular walk at home, Tinky-Winky and I walk through the secondary school grounds. This evening, as we crossed the street to the school, there was a woman on the grounds talking to a man with a young-looking German-shepherd-like dog. Then the woman walked away and I thought the guy was a cop, because he was dressed too neatly and stood assertively instead of loitering. But then as we approached him, his dog jumped toward Tinky-Winky, wagging his tail and excited. And a police dog wouldn't do that.

So the guy says to his dog "heel" and the dog ignores him. The guy had to tell him four times, and on the fourth time he yanked hard on the leash, and finally the dog paid attention to him, heeled, and assumed a submissive attitude. Then I noticed the guy had a gun strapped to his leg and a toque that said "police" on it. (Hey. It was dark.)

Me: So it's a police dog, eh?
Guy: Yes he is.
Me: I thought police dogs heeled on the first try.
Guy: Usually he does.
Me: Is he on duty?
Guy: Yes he is.
Me: Oh. I better get out of here then.

Yep. My dog: distracts an on-duty police dog so he won't respond in four tries. She's actually that cute. Good to know in case I ever need to sneak past a police dog.

(Ok, in reality, the dog was already distracted before we got there, otherwise maybe he would have stayed focused. But it's still rather disturbing that it would take four tries to control a police dog who's on duty and on leash. What happens when it's off leash, then?)

"If only you could talk"

Of course not. If my dog would talk she'd be like everyone else who can talk: bloody annoying.

But sometimes I do wonder, when she looks at me with her big brown eyes, whether she's happy enough. Not that there is anything more I can think of to do for her, but does she wish she had more dogs in her life? She's never really tried to make friends with other dogs, even when we take friends' dogs on walks. She wants to be with me and she wants the other dogs away from me. But if we spent enough time around the same dog, would she become more interested in interacting with the other dog and less in guarding me?

It doesn't matter very much in that I'm not getting a second dog. One dog is completely portable. I can go to hotels, to friends' houses, I can rent a room or an apartment, I can take her in the car. Two dogs: not even. Two dogs would be a huge pain in the arse. Nonetheless, if I had a boyfriend, and he had a dog, then his dog would be his dog and my dog would be my dog, and so, theoretically, it might be possible for the two dogs to become friendly without having to give up their one-man-one-dog privileges.

Again this is purely speculative since I'm not getting a boyfriend. But I do wonder if the dog wishes I would get a boyfriend who had a dog.