Our dog, Maya, is The Greatest Dog In the Whole World, and we love her.  She doesn’t bark to alert you, though, when she needs to go outside to do her bidness.  The only definitive action she takes, and you have to pay attention or you will have “problems” on the living room carpet later, is to come into the room and sit upright and give you a wistful look until you notice her, at which point she will turn quickly and head for the door.  Oh, I get it.  Gotta pee.  Okay, I’m coming…

But just like The Boy Who Cried “Wolf”, she also knows that performing this behavior will always make us get up and go open a closed door,  just because we think she has to “go” (or is it us that’s performing the behavior?).  So, we have to get up every time, jump into the boots, slide down the pole, crank up the sirens, and roll out, just on the off-chance that it’s the real deal and not a false alarm.

Most of the houses we have lived in have hardwood floors.  We love the warmth, look, and feel, plus the easier maintenance.  It is also very entertaining to watch Maya do her Scooby-Do impression, running in place for a few seconds before finally getting enough traction to start moving forward: SCHICKETY, SCHICKETY, SCHICKETY, SHICKETY…  when the doorbell rings or the UPS Truck rumbles up the driveway.  And then the slide to a stop at the other end, followed by a soft thud into the door or a wall.

Not so entertaining in situations like this morning while I am trying to sleep.  My wife has already gotten up, fed the dog, let her outside, and then back into our room where her doggie bed is located, and closed the door to let me sleep in.   Nice idea, but as soon as I give the slightest indication that I am awake, rolling over and groaning, whatever, Maya gets up from her bed and walks over to the closed door: CHICK, CHICK, CHICK, CHICK, CHICK, CHICK CHICK…  And when I attempt to ignore her and go back to sleep, CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY across the floor to sit patiently at the bedside and wait for me to make my next move.  Another rollover and an adjustment of the covers, and she’s all “Okay, now he’s awake..” followed by CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY  back to the door. She figures out I am still not on the move, so it’s CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY-CHICKETY, back over to me.

This 6:30am doggie version of Riverdance goes on and on, back and forth, back and forth, and back and forth, until I finally give in.  “ALL RIGHT, I GET IT!!”  I get up, find my glasses, put on the robe, and let her out.  And the big emergency?  The unattended  bowl of cat food on the floor of the laundry room.  Really?  You dragged me out of bed just so you could make a break for the Friskies?  Oh you Bitch…


2 Responses to "Toenails"

  1. Steven says:

    Our cat Cutie is the same. Will not go downstairs to eat unless you come with her. Loves the company. I get the scratch on the door too or when it comes into the room it will plant herself where you cannot move your legs anymore. Then at that moment sleep is over.

  2. wyngrrrl says:

    grrr…my BF’s lab is similar except…she mugs me. It starts with her curled up by my feet…slowly she crawls towards my head….and then MUGGED! She lays her muzzle over my neck and tries to cut off my air supply. I get it! I mean get up!

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