All dogs do silly, unexpected, cute things. It makes every dog different, gives them character. Sammy has more character than most.
Some dogs watch TV. Sammy does.
Some dogs like to lick the sweat from pop bottles and cups. Sammy does.
Some dogs like to slide on slides on swing sets. Sammy does.
Some dogs like to make forts behind couches and chairs to hide rawhides. Sammy does.
Some dogs beg for ice cubes. Sammy does.
Some dogs like to sleep on top of pillows above your head. Sammy does.
Some dogs like to eat the squeakers out of every toy. Sammy does.
Some dogs fall asleep like babies on car rides (even just down the block). Sammy does.
Some dogs play hide and go seek or BOO! Smmy does.
Some dogs can drink out of cups and eat off forks like people. Sammy does.
Some dogs know cell phone ringers. Sammy does.
Some dogs don't want to be destructive when you leave and they miss you, they just want to pull out every piece of gum from the gum package from your purse, and leave it in a circle around the living room without a torn wrapper or bite mark to be seen. Sammy does.
Sammy has alot of character.
Sammy likes to look at himself in the mirror. Yep. I can just hear his little head going...."WOW is that a dog! I wish I could play with him! Look at that smile and ears. Why can't I run into more dogs like you? Your perfect!" Then his moment is ruined when something moves, like I appear behind him in the mirror. Then he realizes, "Oh man, it's not a new dog friend, it's me!" Poor guy. It just ruins his new friend idea. Erik thinks he looks at himself because he is a vain dog; because I call him the cutest, most beautiful dog in the whole world. (In my defense, have you seen him?) I don't believe it. I just see his eyes and smile drop when he sees that movement....I can almost hear that big heart of his crack, beginning to break.
This morning was one of those days. He was having a conversation with himself. Just 2 minutes before my alarm went off, I was laying in bed with Sammy on my side. Off the side of the bed on the wall is our closet. Our closet doors are mirrors. (Very nice! And it helps to lighten up the small room and makes it look so much bigger! Kodos Kensington!) Sammy was laying down with his rear end (frog dogged) on my arm and head looking straight forward toward the mirror. He was not barking, persay, more raar-rrer-aa-r-aa-rre, weird unique Sammy sound. It's so weird. I swear he is trying to talk like a human. I'm not sure if he does this because he is learning not to bark from the bark collar, because he wants to talk like a person, or because he disn't want to wake me up. Anyway, there is was making this weird, not doggie voices to himself in the mirror. The best part, his ears perk up as he's making noises, and he was cocking his head, like he does when he tries to figure out what people are saying .....or when timers beep.
It was all ruined when I pulled my hand up to cover my mouth so he wouldn't hear me laugh. But with that little movement, ears went back down, noises stopped, smile fell. I had ruined his PBFF (pretend BFF).
He often sees his reflection in the window that looks out on our "yard." He doesn't make noise since some vindictive squirrel walks by or leaf has to fly by. It quickly ruins his fictious world. Speaking of leaves flying. Sammy feels it is his duty to capture every flying leaf! It's fall, so that is no small task. When we talk little walks or potty breaks, Sammy is on the job running after every leaf that moves! He runs, captures it and carries it til the next one moves, then drops it and goes for the next one. This is all fine and good, and actually quite cute .....that is until one of two things happen. First, very self explanatory, if he is in the process of doing his "business." Or second, if we are inside.
Friday evening, Sammy and I were enjoying our end of the week by chilling inside away from the sparatic rain showers. I enjoyed some Gilmore Girls (season 5 marathon) while Sammy felt he was not fulfilling his sole purpose of life....to chase the leaves. Mind you, if he was outside, he would feel the rain and sad-eye his way back to the door to seek refuge. Thus, he sat in front of the sliding glass window to watch the chaos. When a leaf would run by he would attack! Attack the window! He clawed, licked, even tried to bite the window to the leaves! Very funny for the first ten minutes. I let him out, he came back in. Attacked the window some more. I let him out. He begged to come back in and attacked the window yet again. I thought I could be smart, but him on his rope and opened the door just enough that he could go in and out. It didn't work, he sat inside and still clawed at the door. I resorted to closing the door so I wouldn't have to freeze, and thought he could attack the window until his little heart was content or claws tired. How long could that take anyway? Half hour? A half hour later, he was growling at the window. Ok, how about an hour? An hour later he was on his back trying to push the door up. Two hours? Two hours later he had his nose smashed in the corner trying to re-open the door. I let him out again. He went to the bathroom and ran right back in to his post.
Now the wind has come up and he is frantic to get to those leaves. I really did feel bad for him. I especially felt bad that he felt it was his obligation to get all of the leaves. I'll cut to the chase, he attacked that window until dusk, probably because he could no longer see all the leaves. It had exhausted him and he was ready to sleep all night long.
That was until he saw his PBFF in the window. Now he had his friend back.