More on dogs

Zoey the Small and Annoying just followed Mary up the stairs to our bedroom. She’ll go back and forth a half dozen times before I’m done posting this, intent on being with both of us and nervous lest I lose my way and never make it to the bedroom.

Odin the Large and Lazy has been upstairs for some time, staking out his place of prominence at the foot of our bed and not at all concerned about the fact that I’ll have to climb over him to make my way into the room. These days, overcoming inertia is not his strong suit. He likes to move as little as possible, preferably once in the morning and once in the evening.

We ran into a guy with a beautiful five-year old Golden while out walking tonight and I let her nuzzle my hand. I’ve always loved Goldens and I’ve never met one that didn’t return my affection. I’m the Golden Whisperer. (In addition to being the Baby Whisperer, but that’s another post entirely.)

There’s a young lady who frequently carries her dachshund on the bus mornings and they snuggle and cuddle all the way to 4^th and Seneca. Tonight she was on the bus without the dog and she was having a tense conversation with someone on the phone. She does better when her dog’s with her.

We were over at the neighbors’ for dinner Saturday night and Ynez the guide dog spent a good portion of the evening proferring her hindquarters for rubbing. I was only too happy to oblige.

We’d wondered what happened to Jiggs the boxer in the house catty-cornered from us but after a couple months of no sightings, all of a sudden there he was on Sunday while I mowed the lawn near the fenceline. He’s really a lovely, special dog who wants only to be friends with the whole world. All at once. And he’s one of those pups who always somehow manages to get out and go gleefully romping through the hood.

There was a dog at the Rainier bus stop today whose owner had dressed it up in a foo foo outfit. As I’ve said before, I swear dogs can show embarrassment.

I love dogs. Can you tell?