Gone to the Dogs
One time he masterminded an ambush of my little poodle’s bowl. He barked at the front door, which made her run to see if there was anything there that required her to yap along with him. Meanwhile, he slipped around the circle in our floorplan to the kitchen corner where he wolfed down the supposedly “superior” food in her dish before she realized he’d set her up. It was a diabolical plan, flawlessly logical and executed with perfect timing.
To be fair, he only fooled her that way once.
Over the years, I’ve had a number of pets–cats, dogs, horses, an assortment of fish and tadpoles and a veritable Methuselah of gerbils. While I’ve loved and enjoyed them all–with the possible exception of the gerbil–I have to confess that dogs are my favorites.
It’s hard to beat their uncritical companionship and they’ve always fallen in with my lifestyle. Even Mack, who according to his breed should be an energetic handful, has learned to snuggle into the writing chair with me for hours at a time and saves his exuberance for when we make our squirrel patrols in the park around our building.
But I know others have different opinions so I’m willing to listen. What do you think? Do you prefer a different sort of pet? Or no pet?