Dog-Sitting

We're looking after Gunner, my parents' silly, slobbery black lab for a few days while my mom and dad visit my sister in Boston. This dog... first of all, I should say that Gunner is all boy. He is a Man's Dog. He hunts with my dad. He isn't bathed all that often, though Bella is bathed once a month, which is decidedly more frequent than most dogs.

He's such a sweetie, though. He's getting along pretty well with our trio. Bella put him in his place once or twice, but it wasn't anything more than your standard reminder of rank in the pack. She is the quintessential Alpha, which is fine as long as we feed them separately. She's being very, very nice about letting G-man get up on the couch with me, even if it means that she has to stay on the floor because there's not enough room. (Gunner is BIG when he stretches out.) That wouldn't fly at my parents' house where Bella, the guest star, prances around like she owns the place and likes to usurp Gunner's spot on the couch and the bed. Nice, my little girl, no?

Meanwhile, Gunner farts like a trombone and refuses to go up the stairs to the second floor unless you put him on his leash and walk him up. I really can't figure this out. We can call him, cajole him, invite him, what have you, but without a treat as a bribe or specifically escorting him up the stairs on his leash, he stays at the bottom of the stairs and cries like the loneliest dog in Dogville. Which is heart-breaking, but also... what? Why, dude? Just COME ON UP AND SNUGGLE WITH US EVEN THOUGH YOU KIND OF SMELL BAD AND I KNOW THAT WAS YOUR FART BECAUSE YOU GAVE YOURSELF AWAY WHEN YOU TURNED AND SNIFFED YOUR OWN BUTT. Sheesh.

The cats are acting like nothing is out of the ordinary, except for the tiptoeing. They tiptoe everywhere. They are out and about, cuddling next to Gunner on the bed and everything, although Ollie like to stay at the top of the stairs after sending Fred down first, which Fred does.... very very slowly in a slow tiptoeing way of tiptoeyness. He's either the protective big brother or bait. Not sure which.

We, the humans, are officially outnumbered with Gunner here AND Scooter's mom was back yesterday, sans kittens. Ah, well.

Happy Birthday to Joel! I love you, sweetie. I got you a big farting black lab and a gift card to Best Buy as a present! Enjoy!