He goes out, he does his chores without trying to elope to Mexico with one of the yard rabbits, he comes in, he gets a cookie. That’s the routine, and Torso Boy likes his routine. And he let me know in no uncertain terms this morning that cookie means cookie, not a cut-rate rawhide stick.
Yeah! I got this big bag of cheap rawhide sticks because he really likes the ones Big Brother sent – of which he gets one before bedtime, because routine. I figured that, just to be nice, I’d deal him one of these instead of the usual biscuit. And he took it, half-turned toward the bedroom where he usually runs to enjoy his biscuit – and then he turned back toward me, dropped the stick on the floor, and stared up at me as if to say, “You’ve made a mistake in my order.”
What could I do? I just said, “so sorry, sir!” and got him a cookie. And he grabbed it like always and ran to the bedroom, order having been restored to his universe.
I’d better never run out of biscuits if I want to keep my job, I guess…
Now, now, now. Please remember the poor little guy has been through quite a lot over the past few months, and a consistent routine is a good way to help him get over it. Have you stepped in any puddles lately? Have you slipped on a log? As long as he continues to comply with the basic rules, be nice to the little guy. After all, dogs mature to about the mental level of a 6 year old kid. Don’t expect too much.
Have you checked to see if there is a zipper and Torso Boy isn’t really a cat in a dog suit?
A man’s go to know his limitations.
Dogs? Not so much.
Waaayyyy too funny. Especially because it took him a few minutes to decide to make an issue of it. He’s a total hoot.
You just can’t get good staff these days.
That, Timbotoo, is what all the smart cats say!
Are you SURE that’s a dog, Joel???
}:-]