I’m sitting here at my computer doing my thing and my dogs are all hovering, their personalities evident in the hovering each of them does.
Molly, the half lab half border collie, is standing next to me, her head half down. Every so often she’ll glance up and then look back down at the floor. I’m here, but don’t notice me, but if you do, I’d like a pet, but you don’t have to. I mean, I know you’re busy, so I won’t bug you, but if you do happen to look at me and you do happen to want to pet someone, I wouldn’t be offended if you petted me.
Edna, the greyhound, is dumb as a fence post and kidnap bait to boot. If she’ll get a pet, she doesn’t care who from. She stands next to me and shoves her nose into my hand as I type. It’s cold and makes me typo. I stop and pet her to try and make her go away, but that just makes her want more. And I think she enjoys the fact she’s tall enough to make me pay attention. I could say that she doesn’t care I’m busy, but I think she’s too dumb to know what busy is.
Piper, the chihuahua, spins in circles and grunts. He just drank a bunch of water and for some reason, that makes his breathing difficult for about five minutes. Maybe he sucks in water through his nose, I don’t know. He’s actually the mellowist and quietist chihuahua I have ever met, but when he wants me to pick him up, he either stands and whines (the piping for which he is named) or he spins and grunts. Spin, grunt, retarded face. Spin, grunt, retarded face. It’s actually pretty cute and generally serves his purpose in getting me to pick him up.
So now I took too long and typed this, so the dogs all went to their respective corners. Molly slunk into the closet where her bed is hidden under the back shelf. She wouldn’t want anyone to notice her, you know. Edna went to poke around and see if any of the other dogs left dog food pieces she can nibble on. Either that or she’s lying on the floor and taking up as much space as possible. She has two positions, spread across the room or curled in the corner. Most times, she chooses spread across the room. Piper didn’t finish his food after drinking his water so now he’s eating. Maybe there is something to the theory that he gets water in his nose since his snout is all pushed in. Damn he’s cute.
I love my pack of dogs. I’m their Pied Piper and lead dog. It’s kind of funny. Milla hates it that she’s not leader. She asked me why I got to be leader. I told her I didn’t choose it, the dogs did. I told her she could be leader if they picked her. Unfortunately since she drags them around on leashes and does things like trying to make Molly jump fences like an agility dog, or forces lazy ass Edna to run up the hill with her, being leader of the pack isn’t going to happen anytime soon. Friday the cat doesn’t mind her mauling him. In fact he searches her out, flopping on his back at her feet begging her to drag him around. Perhaps she can pretend to be his leader since he loves the attention, although cats don’t seem to seek a leader. He does treat us like his family though, coming in to lie on the bed with us at night, shoving his head under our hands for pets until we fall asleep. It’s all good.
Funny that our family is mostly a bunch of non-human animals. I bet we would give the traditional family values people something to cry over. Actually, we already did, what with Milla being born out of wedlock, her dad and I living in sin for 5 years, and then splitting up. Yikes! We’re the devil. Now, I have this bastard child living with a bunch of dogs and a cat like her family. Oh my God! Call out the guard. Sin is afoot! Ah well. Sarcasm aside, it’s a good non-traditional family.