Our granddog, Chloe, is staying with us while her family has some work done in their yard. She is a sweet tempered blonde thing, and a pleasure to have around. Her fur is so soft, and she smiles all the time. She and Cali get along very well. So we have dogs squared, which, of course, means dog hair squared, dog food squared, (which leads directly to dog poop squared), refilling of water bowls squared, petting/scratching/belly rubbing squared. And they can do some serious snoring...squared.They are both companion dogs, so they want to BE with me every second. We spend our days like this: wake up and greet me like I've been gone for a year--go out and pee--come back inside and greet me like I'm just back from my trip to the moon--do the dog food dance on the wooden floor with their doggie tap shoes (noisy!)--attempt to kiss me as I bend down to dump the dog food into the bowl--eat the entire bowl of food in the time it takes me to straighten back up--dance some more just in case I'm holding out on them--go outside to poo--come back inside and greet me like I'm their long lost best friend recently returned from safari--follow me from room to room THIS CLOSELY just in case I need an 80 pound dog wearing doggie tap shoes to step on my bare foot--lay down in whatever room I've decided upon--nap--wake up if I so much as wiggle a toe--greet me with profound enthusiasm--nap--follow me to another part of the house--nap--greet--repeat as needed for 12 hours. You get the idea.
Cali has no trouble with our wooden floors; she's a Lab, and has big o' fat webbed feet, which enable her to walk or run easily on the slick surface. Chloe, however, can't handle the floors. She has no traction at all, and the slippidy-slidy manuever does not please her. She gives me the look that says, "I'm an old, old lady with fragile hips. Surely you don't expect me to walk on this slippery floor. Surely you intend to take care of my personal needs by rearranging the entirety of your living habits to accomodate my various requirements." So all the throw rugs and bath mats from the various throw-ruggy areas of the house are laid out end to end to enable her to get from one room to another. It's a very attractive look...one I'm certain Vern Yip will want to steal, and use in his future interior designs.
She refuses to use the doggie door, because when I was trying to teach her how to work it, the flap snapped her on the nose just a tiny bit. That's all it took. She'll never even attempt it again. So that means whenever she has to go out (which is often; as I mentioned, she's old, and has a teeny little bladder), I have to GET UP and go let her out, then GET UP to go let her back in, followed by another excited greet session. Geesh.
Chloe is like any house guest. You enjoy their company, and you're really glad to see them. But soon the novelty wears off, and it's nice when they go home, and you can put the throw rugs back where they belong.
