Sometimes, dogs are just funny. For that matter, sometimes people are, too. You never know when something funny is going to come out of nowhere on a regular night at home. This is where we found ourselves the other night.
It had been a pretty regular day for the most part. We went to work, came home, did dog chores and had dinner. Everyone was working on unwinding and relaxing at the end of the day. One of Mr. Taleteller’s favorite ways to do this is to lay on the floor with his quilt. I would rather be anywhere but on the floor, but it makes him happy.
It’s not enough for him, though, to lay on the floor with just his quilt. He needs a dog to snuggle with. He will drag the nearest dog bed over beside him and then try to lure one of the dogs over to the dog bed. Usually, it’s not a hard sell. The girls all like to lay under the quilt with him, even Morgan at times. Usually, though, it’s Flattery who he convinces to come and lay down with him. It’s a situation that makes them both happy.
The other night, Flattery was already laying on the dog bed, so he pulled the dog bed over beside him with her still on it. She gave a coy little roll of her head before ducking under the edge of the quilt. They were both soon off in dreamland, snoring in symphony and blissfully unaware of anything else going on in the world.
Now Flattery has a very accurate internal time clock. I’m pretty sure it’s directly connected to her stomach by some magical tripwire. When we get within half an hour of turn out time, no matter what she is doing, she makes sure that everyone knows that this important time of the day is near. It’s not because she really needs to go to the bathroom, it’s because she wants the treat that comes after she makes the nightly deposit outside. She will also make sure that she gets Morgan and Küster on board with the alarm system most of the time.
The other night, though, there seems to have been some sort of short in the wiring system of Flattery’s brain. It’s either that, or she really did have to go to the bathroom half an hour early. It can happen. In any event, she was laying under the quilt with Mr. Taleteller when I suddenly saw her tail shoot out and then she did this fish out of water sort of flop on her side. I heard my husband howl in pain or surprise as Flattery reared up, bit his nose, thrashed her head back and then mule kicked him in the stomach before leaping up like a little Lipizzaner and running to the back door.
Soon, she ran back into the living room while I held my stomach in laughter like a truly sympathetic spouse. She reared up again, then did this little mule kick behind her, tossing her head and grinning like mad. She ran over to Morgan’s crate and did a play bow followed by another odd little hop, ran to the back door again and ran back in to stomp her foot at my bewildered husband and give another head toss.
There was nothing else for him to do but get up and stumble to the back door with her to take her outside. To Flattery’s great disgust, there was no treat given for an early turnout session, because Mr. Taleteller knew she’d insist on going back out with Bunny again at the regularly scheduled time. She curled back up on the dog bed with him a little later, and farted, leaving Mr. Taleteller to a dose of the Dutch oven treatment. What can I say? It’s funny because it didn’t happen to me, and it amuses me that she can be such a character when she wants something. One day, she’ll train him to give her a treat the first time. Until then, I’ll just continue laugh at her antics.