Stream of conscious rambling from a sleep deprived nurse with English degree leanings. Either that or the psychological trait known as flight of ideas...it's a toss up.
30 May 2010
The New Man In My Life
He's a sweet guy with a sweet face (although he looks like a crack head here). His former family didn't do much with him besides housebreak him (thank you sweet little 8 lb 7 oz Baby Jesus), teach him to sit, and crate train him. He has very few social skills and less manners. His favorite greeting is to give your salad a good toss. Not fun. But he does aim to please even if he won't come when you call him if you don't have a treat in your hand (found that out after chasing around the neighborhood for 15 minutes; definitely one of the top 5 on "what Dude needs to learn to get along with Big Momma Alpha Dog.")
His roommate is plenty pleased despite what he may look like in this picture:
Really, he's not sulking; he's exhausted and praying for bed. They've been playing (and trying to establish dominance) non-stop since Friday night. Poor Knucklehead McSpazatron is down right SEDATE at this point. Right now Bugs is stretched out on the floor chasing dreams and Dude is crashed in his crate snoring like a band saw. Bwahahahahaaaaa! "A tired dog is a good dog" is right!
This gentleman is not all that pleased with the recent turn of events:
As you can see, he is plotting my painful and violent death. Actually, both boys (two legged as well as four) know who runs the joint, and are pretty cautious about making him really angry. And he has yet to express his displeasure by pissing on the rug (cuz it really ties the room together), so I have no need to waterboard him into submission