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A Boy and his Dog

January 22, 2010

Bubaloo’s relationship with the pooch can be described as complicated.  There are moments of love and moments of pure frustration.

It’s love when they’re playing tug of war in the living room and hatred when he dashes up the stairs and the dog tries to herd him by chasing his ankles and barking incessantly. It’s love when the dog hops up to cuddle on his bed and hatred when the dog nudges his elbow to make food fly off his fork at the dinner table.  It’s love when they’re playing chase while we hike through the woods and hatred when he has to pick up dog poop.

Like I said, it’s complicated.

This morning Bubaloo had to fill up the dog’s cookie jar.  While the dog may not always come when called, if you jingle the cookie jar lid, he comes running in a flash.

Bubaloo lugged up the big red container of milk bones from the basement and filled the glass jar.  Artfully.  All of the dog cookies were layered by colour.  Green followed by brown, then white topped up with another layer of green.  He left the big container open while filling up the counter-sized container to give the dog free access to a temporary self-serve snack.

After the chore was done, Bubaloo disappeared upstairs to brush his teeth and then it was out the door to catch the school bus.

As I helped him bundle up in his jacket, hat, boots and backpack, I could hear the dog whining.  Presumably, now that he had been introduced to the self-serve milk bone option, I thought the dog was in the basement sitting in front of the big red container.  I listened a bit more, laughed and shared my hypothesis with Bubaloo about the whiney, begging, monster dog he had just created.

“The dog’s not downstairs, Mommy,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

After a bit of back and forth, Bubaloo finally revealed his hypothesis. Which turned out to be less of a hypothesis and more like the truth.

The dog was on our bed.  Whining.  He was trying to get at the handful of dog biscuits that Bubaloo had strategically worked into our bedding.  One under the pillow. Two in the duvet cover.  Another under the blanket and a few more wrapped up in our sheets for good measure.

I thanked Bubaloo for creating such a wonderful game for Gus and sent him on his way.  Not to be a fun-killer, I headed out the door to work.  I’m sure that the dog has had a thoroughly enjoyable day tearing through and burying his treats in my lovely (formerly crumb free) sheets.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. February 4, 2010 7:06 am

    Just wanted to drop you a line to say how much I enjoyed reading your reasonable, sane and thoughtful comment over at Notes from the trenches on the Subject of sleepovers.

    Sometimes I feel like my whole country has changed so much that I’ll never be able to fit in when we come home, it’s like the lunatics have taken over the asylum; Then I read your comment, and you said it better than I ever could.

    Well done, and Thanks.

  2. February 10, 2010 2:00 pm

    I hope the dog doesn’t tear the sheets! Yeah…I’m a worrier.

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