Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Freak on a Leash
She's my wiry-haired Houdini. I joke that my dog is magic, but part of me really believes it's true.
She's figured out how to open up my cupboard doors. The unusual part about this is that these doors don't really have a logical way for a dog to get in. I don't really know how she does it. But without fail, every night I get home from work and she's emptied my bottom cupboard off all its plastic-wear, napkins, and random mustard packets. I don't understand the appeal to a dog of accomplishing this task, but I guess if I were her I'd get pretty bored and want to play with plastic knives, too.
She's also a little like Waldo, from the book series. I was looking back at some old pictures from a party I threw with a friend, and she somehow managed to get into almost every single shot. Again, no clue how.
I've never heard her growl. She hasn't once gotten mean or aggressive with other animals. She acts like she thinks she's the size of a walrus and will approach a dog no matter how big and want to play.
In the dog park, she has a die-hard ritual for socializing. She'll spend the first half-hour hanging around the perimeter by herself, content to sniff around the fences, away from the mix of male dogs in the middle who are all competing to be AlphaDog. Then all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, she'll unexpectedly start running - and she runs fast. This usually catches the attention of every dog in the Alpha group, and she knows it. Within a minute they're all chasing her. She is fast enough to run away from all of them if she wanted to, but she manages to stay just close enough to keep them following her. Then suddenly she stops and rolls over on her back and lets them sniff her up and down. Once this is done, she jumps up and starts running again. Giant. Tease.
She's afraid of PetSmart, which to me seems like the Disney World for dogs. She's also afraid of my basement, and it's the only place in this world she doesn't follow me to.
She's locked my keys inside my car. Twice. Once when the car was running.
She plays fetch like a retriever. Fun little fact I discovered one day. This makes no sense also because she's of terrier descent.
Her name kind of frightens me - like if I ever really spell it out, I'll jinx myself and have something horrible happen to me within 7 days.
I take no credit for any part of her demeanor. Truly, she's a daily mystery to me.
Wouldn't be surprised if she lives forever.