Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Pwnage: you're doing it wrong

Tinky-Winky and I went house-sitting last weekend. Technically we were "sitting" the dog, Carter, who is Tinky-Winky's oldest, dearest "friend". They've known each other since... almost since I first got Tinky-Winky in September 2005. The way they met is that my ex and Carter's owner's ex were friends. Carter's owner and I didn't even meet until 2009.

Carter is a nine-year-old boxer. As such, he drools. A lot. Also, he farts a lot. So I decided to go to their house rather than letting him come to ours. Therefore, Her Majesty went on a progress to Carter's house, and I, her faithful servant, brought her household goods.

Being best friends forever, Carter and Tinky-Winky completely ignored each other. And yes, that shows what good friends they are. Of course we know how Her Majesty is with other dogs. She hasn't been in a fight in nearly two years now, but she does snap at the nose of any dog that doesn't grovel before her. Carter isn't as consistently and masterfully ferocious as Her Majesty was in her day, but he weighs somewhere close to 100 lbs, and has been in quite a few fisticuffs. He's not a very good fighter, as far as I can tell, so he doesn't win, but he does instigate. So, having the two in the same house, ignoring each other completely, for 48 hours, shows that they're very dear friends, or possibly, that I'm the next Dog Whisperer.

The first evening, each dog lay on Her or his own bed. At bedtime, I put Her Majesty's bed next to the owner's bed, which is immensely wide and high. Her Majesty can't, or won't try, to jump that high, so I figured she'd sleep on her bed, and Carter would do... whatever. I didn't think he was allowed on the bed.


Carter jumped up on the bed and tried to sit on me. Did I mention he's close to 100 lbs? I can control him on the leash, but I couldn't wrestle him off the bed, so I picked up Her Majesty and put her near me. At this point they had words, because if there is one thing Her Majesty absolutely will not suffer, it's another dog being closer to me than she is. So Carter backed off a few inches, and then all three of us had a nice pleasant night's sleep.

The second day, Her Majesty took over Carter's dog bed. Carter didn't say anything, but lay miserably on the floor. Also, Carter got unwell. He hardly ate all day. Seeing as he is on a diet and supposed to eat only two scoops a day, I thought I'd outwit him and give him a half-scoop four times a day, so I could feed him when he asked yet not over-feed him. But he didn't even eat what I gave him. He did drink a lot, though, with the obvious result that he loosened his bowel considerably and spent the evening pissing like a racehorse - the first time, unfortunately, in the house; the next six outside. After that he wasn't feeling all that cuddly, so he slept on the floor the second night, and Her Majesty and I had the bed to ourselves.

The third day, Carter decided to get cocky, thusly:


He's lying on Her Majesty's bed.

Amazingly, Tinky-Winky let him, and didn't even object to his smell being on it afterwards. Even though she won't even drink from the same dish he does, on account of the drooling. Still, Carter seems less than thrilled with this new bed. Maybe because he can't even fit completely on it, let alone sprawl out.

So the moral is twofold: first, nobody pwns Her Majesty; and second, if I get a borzoi, I'll need a much bigger dog bed.

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