Communicating

My family says I’m bossy.  I disagree.  I’m simply a dog who knows exactly what he wants and is committed to getting it. 

And besides, what my family calls being bossy is actually just me communicating with them.  We don’t naturally speak the same language, my family and I.  They rely on words (and I’ve learned quite a few from sit, down, paw, and eights to squirrel, cookie, walk and focus (sometimes I get distracted when I go out to do business and my family has to remind me to focus on the task at hand)).  I, however, rely on barks, whines, and looks to get my points across.  The way I see it, both sides are talking, we’re just talking in different languages and making do as best we can.  They might sometimes find my way of communicating annoying, but do you have any idea how many times a day I have to hear them say the word 'sit'?  It gets old…quick. 

So that’s my opinion and my family's.  Now it’s your turn, my loyal readers.  Am I bossy or am I simply communicating my wants and needs?  Feel free to use the following as a guide.

Toys:

I want a toy!

There are everyday toys and then there are special toys.  Everyday toys are dull to play with, but good for greeting someone at the door with.  Everyday toys live throughout the house, scattered under tables, beneath chairs, in the middle of the room, and on stair treads.  Special toys, however, are fun to play with (and even more fun to rip to shreds) and generally live in closed off closets and rooms awaiting a special request.  I know where all those closed off closets are and when I want a toy, I ask my family by parking myself outside the door and barking hysterically.  If my family wants to hear the television, they pretty much have to give me a toy.

Bedtime:

When I’m ready to go to bed, I’m ready to go to bed and, what’s more, it is my firm belief that when I go to bed, everyone should go to bed.  Why?  Two reasons:

1. If I go to bed and my family remains awake, someone might decide to snack without me which is beyond rude. 
2. When everyone else finally decides to pack it in, they might assume that I’m not awake and waiting for my goodnight treat.  They would assume incorrectly. 

So what’s a dog like me supposed to do when he’s ready to go to bed and no one else is? 

I start with a combination of physical and vocal cues: I stalk into the bedroom, throw myself down on my pillow, and issue an exaggerated sigh.  Then I wait for my message to really penetrate my family's brains.  While I wait, I snooze--why waste the time?  This step usually lasts for about a half hour.

If, when I wake, my family still hasn’t called it a night, I up the ante and move to a more visible spot: the threshold of the doorway between Ma and Pa’s room and the hallway.  With my snout peeking out of the door, I give my family in the living room a distant side eye (when I'm not snoozing again) to encourage them to move along.

I'm watching you!

Now let’s say my family still does not submit to my demands.  If that’s the case, I get up, drag myself into the hallway, and shoot them the dirtiest look I can muster.

Staring someone down

Going through all these steps might result in my family laughing at me or saying that they are going to ignore me, but I know from experience that it is nearly impossible to ignore me when I give them that final “look.”  It’s only a matter of time before everyone starts fidgeting uncomfortably and eventually get up and head to bed.  Family 0—Rigby 1.

Go to Work:

Part of my job as Sister’s Administrative Assistant is that I am in charge of keeping a careful eye on the time clock.  If Sister is so much as a minute late coming back from lunch, I set myself up in her office and give her one of my disdainful looks.  Needless to say, she always comes running (though she’s usually muttering something about her being Bob Cratchit to my Ebenezer Scrooge).

Walks:

As I mentioned in a recent post, I’ve actually started to enjoy walks.  I mean, for the longest time I hated walks.  I hated being told to walk nice on a leash or, even worse, having to wear the snout guard.  And those punishment walks my family used to take me on (long walks designed to tire me out when I was becoming incorrigible)?  They were definitely not my idea of a good time.  But now, I actually demand walks whenever I’m out east.

Usually, when I want to go for a walk, I get all excited and start pacing the room.  That frantic energy doubles if my family shows even the slightest sign of daring to leave the house without me.  Sometimes, however, I have to take it a step further.  Here’s what I did a few weekends ago to express my excitement about going for a walk:

1. Barked frantically
2. Sneezed repeatedly
3. Retched loudly
   

Luckily, Ma got the message before I actually lost my breakfast.

Gesundheit

It all started out innocently enough (how many times has a story of mine started this way?). 

Yesterday, Sister and I were hanging out in the living room having just finished our dinners.  Sister was doing a masterful job of multitasking:  watching television while rubbing my ears and snout.  To my credit, I was making it quite easy for her because I was being particularly cuddly that evening.  You see, unbeknownst to my family (they found out at 4am this morning), my tummy was a little off and when my tummy is off, I become very needy (don't worry, a little grass and a 4:30am outdoor barking session and I felt much better).

So there I was taking full advantage of Sister's willingness to rub my ears and snout and tolerating the occasional kiss she insisted on giving me when all of a sudden I felt a tingling deep in my snout.  It started up by my eyes then slowly made its way down the entire length of my snout to my cold black nose.  Then, all of a sudden, my left lip curled into a snarl and my left eye closed as...

ACHOOOO!

It goes without saying that I felt much better once that sneeze was out of my system.  But before I could enjoy the relief I had found, I was started by the sound of Sister screaming "Ewww!"  Yep, I had sneezed directly in her face.

Amid Sister's cries and the laughter emanating from Ma and Pa, I did the only thing I could:  I wagged my tail and smiled.

Now, I expected karma to find me because of what I did to Sister; I just never expected it to find me the way it did.  You see, this afternoon, Ma and Pa gave me a bath, but not at the doggy spa (my bff Mecki got a bath at the doggy spa this weekend...I wonder what he did to deserve it).  Nope, I got a bath smack dab in the middle of the driveway.  How embarrassing!

But was it worth it?  When all the pain and suffering of bath time is weighed against the look on Sister's face after I sneezed all over her, do I come out on top?

You bet I do!

Fun At The Dog's Expense

My family is at it again; they have discovered two additional ways to make me look foolish and they are taking full advantage of it.  Boy, are they lucky that I’m such a good natured and well behaved dog, for no other dog of lesser integrity would tolerate it.

How My Family Makes Me Look Like A Fool, Part I:  Large Jowls and Tiny Candies

It is no secret that I have very large, and often drooly, jowls.  The sad fact of the matter is, I have spent a fair portion of my life listening to my family joke about the fact that I need a lip-tuck to reign in my lips and having them run after me with paper towels to wring my jowls out after getting a drink of water.  Hurtful, right?  Anyway, a couple of days ago, Ma dropped a mini M&M on the floor.  Needless to say, I pounced on it.  Yeah, I know chocolate isn't good for dogs, but it was such a tiny piece of chocolate I didn't think it would hurt.  Well, I was wrong.  It did hurt, but not my tummy.  No, it hurt my pride.  You see, I had a devil of a time trying to swallow that little piece of candy because it kept getting lost in my jowls and falling back out onto the floor.  I must have struggled for a good five minutes before I finally managed to swallow it.  Ma, Pa, and Sister laughed at me the entire time.

How My Family Makes Me Look Like A Fool, Part II:  Ticklish Spots

I have a ticklish spot.  I know, that's not all that strange; many dogs have ticklish spots especially on their bellies.  How many times, after all, have you rubbed a dog's belly only to have his leg start moving as though he's scratching an itch?  (By the way, don't stop scratching his belly just because he's got a ticklish spot...just pick a different spot and continue on).  My ticklish spot, however, is not located on my belly.  No, my ticklish spot is located on the right side of my snout.  Whenever someone rubs my snout, my lip curls, I show my teeth, and, most embarrassing of all, I start sneezing.  Now, some of my loyal readers might have gasped just now.  Rigby, the debonair Golden Retriever with the statuesque stance of a model and a jovial and fun loving spirit, showed his teeth?  Yes, I show my teeth, but not in a mean or menacing sort of way.  Yeah, I'm annoyed at the way my family laughs at me while I'm sneezing and snarling (even Pa laughs and he and I are supposed to be buds) and yeah, I really wish Sister wouldn't take videos of me snarling (I refused to give in to her entirely and managed to yawn rather than sneeze when she recorded me), but I would never snarl at them threateningly.  I'm simply not that kind of dog.

So there you go, two addition examples of how my family is actively seeking out ways of making me look foolish.  It's okay though.  I've been extracting my revenge the last couple of days by barking hysterically at even the smallest of sounds.  Thus far, I've barked at car doors closing, the oil burner starting up, and Sister putting a book down on the table.  I think my family will agree:  Once I put my mind to something, I give it my all.

The Pollen Count Downer

The day started out great.

On Saturday morning my sister bought me a brand new toy.  What a great sister, right?  She always picks out nice toys for me; toys with odd voice boxes, toys with rattles rather than squeakers, and toys that are almost as long as I am.  Well, this time she bought me a frog.  But this wasn’t just some ordinary frog.  Nope, this frog had limbs that were twice as long as its body.  And if that wasn’t enough it had five squeakers (one in each limb and a fifth in its body).  Let the fun begin!

Because it was so nice outside, my sister decided that I could play with my new toy in the backyard.  That sounded great to me.  You see, it is a well known fact that playing with a new toy outside in the dirt ensures that it loses its clean new toy smell almost immediately.  That’s how you take a great toy and make it stupendous.  Anyway, I grabbed my toy and raced into the backyard, its spindly legs flapping behind me.  I chewed on it, I squeaked it, I shook it, and I rolled on it.  It was great!  Then my sister got involved.  She chased me and my toy and then grabbed two of its legs and played tug with me.  And when I flipped on my back she rubbed my tummy.  “It really can’t get much better than this!” I thought. 

After playing for about half an hour, my sister said it was lunch time and that we had to go in.  I’ve learned not to get excited about the word “lunch.”  When I was a little puppy I used to get a bowl of kibble at lunch time.  Now that I’m grown, lunch time means that my sister gets to eat and I get a pitifully small Milkbone cookie because I willingly came into the house when she called.  Today, however, it really didn’t matter; I had a new toy and I was going to get to play with it while my sister ate.  If only I knew how badly it was going to end.

It started small; a quick outward puff of air that momentarily disrupted my play.  Then there was a second and then a third.  By the fourth sneeze I was really starting to get annoyed.  What also didn’t help the situation was that my sister had gone from saying a sincere “bless you” to snickering.    I thought that was rather mean of her.  You see, I’ve always taken sneezing very seriously.  Every time someone sneezes I run right over to make sure everything is alright.  Sometimes I even give the sneezer a big wet kiss to comfort him or her.  Sneezing can be traumatic you know!  Anyway, after a few more sneezes I decided that perhaps I should put my toy aside, take a nap, and wait for my allergies to pass.

Well, they didn’t pass.  Instead they got worse…much worse.  From a dead sleep I was suddenly awakened by a series of small sneezes followed by three or four giant, jump off the floor, sneezes which seriously disturbed me and brought my sister to tears with laughter.  How rude!