I spent the majority of the day with a MASSIVE migraine. When I get migraines, I get them BAD. I get the entire sensitivity to light and sound, pulsing behind my eyeball, can’t sleep but that’s all you know you need to do, inability to focus on even the most simple tasks kind of migraine. I’ve been put on a twice daily medication for these, but when the weather goes from 47 degrees to 81 degrees over the course of 18 hours, then down to the 60’s my head goes “Forget You.”
So, after working and running errands, I came home to try to relax with our dog.
BACK STORY: His name is Franklin Delano Roofsevelt (FDR, Frankie, Frank, Pooter). He’s a 1 year, 3 month old “tweenie” black and tan dachshund. He’s pretty much the best worst dog God has ever created. The Hubs and I got him as a wedding gift when he was 10 weeks old (after I had been literally begging for a puppy for years). He is hysterical and has so much personality.
He barely passed puppy school. We would have to put a table on its side in between Frankie and the other dogs so he wouldn’t just sit and bark and try to go play with them all class. He means well… but he’s ridiculous. We would do well on our own here at the house with him though. He could do Sit, Stay (to a point), Down, Off and he could walk with us on a leash — the basics… only when no one else was around, so no one believed us for a while. In order to get your “doggy diploma” all you would have to do the last day is perform ANYTHING you have learned during the puppy school course. ANYTHING. You could walk with your owner to the center of the room. You could sit. You could stay. You could not eat a treat. You could lay down. Frankie did everything and anything you could possibly do that was not taught in the course. He had a blast. The Hubs was laughing. I was almost in tears. They gave us that diploma out of pity just to pass him along.
He knows what we’re trying to get him to do, and chooses very carefully when he will and will not listen to you. We typically eat dinner while sitting on the couch with our plates on the coffee table. This was not a problem, until Frankie got long enough to be able to stretch his foot long wienie dog body to get to whatever we’re eating. We’re eating at the table more, or having him eat in his crate now. Also, he’s OCD and will bark at ANYTHING that’s not in it’s place. You put a bag of groceries on the counter, and before you can put them away, he’s barking at them. You put your foot under the rug in the living room, he’s digging at it like the demons will get him if he doesn’t fix it.
He “Happy Pees” anytime anyone comes into the house and up the stairs. Then, he proceeds to do a ritual we call “Toy Parade.” After the “Happy Pee” he will run and get the closest toy and show it to you. He will then run and get toy number two. This continues until you either sit down so he can jump on your lap and lick your face or he runs out of toys.
He probably thinks everything I do is just as hysterical as what I think of his actions. Seriously.
What is he thinking when I act a fool trying to get him to come to the door in the morning so we can go outside to take his morning pee? “Ugh, this again? Can’t I just go in the corner on that pee pad thing you used to be OK with?”
What is he thinking when he’s sitting at my feet while I cook dinner every night? “Drop it. Drop it. Drop it.Drop it. Drop it. Drop it. Drop it. Drop it. She’s clumsy she’ll DROP IT!”
What about when the 3 of us are cuddling on the couch watching a movie? “This movie BLOWS… I told them we should have watched Inception again. I think I’ll understand it after one last viewing.”
When he’s sitting ON my feet while I’m on the computer? “Maybe if I just sit down here and guard her, she’ll have pitty on me give me a treat when she’s done?”
What about when my sister who is basically my twin comes over? “That’s Aunt Kate! No, it’s my Mom! No, it’s Aunt Kate! I don’t care! Pick me up and let me lick your face!!”
What is he thinking when the cows that neighbor our property come up to chew the grass on the other side of the fence? “Listen you jerks, this is MY yard! I poop, pee and dig over here and I’ll be damned if you a-holes are coming over here to chew the grass that I bark at when the wind blows. Forget You!”
**NOTE: Frankie’s bark is MUCH worse than his bite… he doesn’t bite… the one time he was calm enough to get even remotely close to one of the cows, he sniffed her then ran away and barked… he just has a huge Napoleon Complex… he’s actually really wonderful with kids and everyone he meets– adults just give him a few treats and he stops his barking…it’s all good**
I like to give him commentary while he plays or walks around the house. He likes profanity (which the Hubs doesn’t approve of for such a young dog, but what can ya do?), he just seems constantly super pouty or super excited. There seems to be no in between. He’ll “Smoke Monster” (a term we use when he runs laps at his full speed around all the furniture in the house with his short little nails ‘Ticking’ on the hardwood floors like a certain thing on LOST) then he’ll crash and fall asleep on our feet.
Today though, he knew I was feeling icky. He was very sweet and licky and cuddly. He didn’t bug me to play or hover around me when I ate, he just would sit and watch or hop up on the couch and burrow under the blanket to cuddle. He knew that today was not the day to bark at the cows who are trying to invade his yard or tear apart yet another toy and threaten to eat the stuffing. He knew that i needed a quiet day.
And so he sits next to my feet, chewing on his dinosaur (his favorite toy) and keeping one eye on the window in the door.
I don’t know how we survived without his little personality pootering around this place. So, tomorrow when he’s declared war on the cows, ketchup bottle and trash can again the universe will be back on track. For now, I’m going to go snuggle with the little guy and take his knowing that I need a sweet day out of him for all it’s worth until he turns back into a gremlin at midnight.