Friday, October 31, 2014

I thought we were past the baby gate stage...

We watch as he makes a beeline for the living room.  "Bodhi??  Where you going, buddy?"  He doesn't even acknowledge us.  He takes his 100 lb bulk and climbs up into the Lazy Boy, squeezing his hairiness between the arms of the chair - legs splayed - head over the side.

"Bodhi.  Dude.  You don't belong on there.  DOWN."

His eyebrows droop before he slides dejectedly off the Lazy Boy.  He immediately moves towards the sofa.  "No.  Bodhi, NO."  Head down, he moves past us towards the kitchen/family area.  I beat him to the punch, going the other way around the stairs and place a kitchen chair on its side on top of the family room sofa.  "Dude.  Seriously.  No couches.  No.  You shed too much."

He sighs, cocks his head to one side, and gives us the eyes... you know the ones... the "how could you do this to me, aren't I the most adorable thing you've ever seen in your life, why are you punishing me when I am so new to your home?" eyes.

"Stand your ground," I warn David.  "Don't let him play you.  We have to be a united front."

"I'm thinking this is a losing battle."

"Everything is going to smell of dog."

"Well, he is, in fact... a dog."

"Yes, but the furniture isn't.  Find the baby gate."

Thankfully, we've just emptied the storage locker and have yet to move its contents into our... I was going to call it a basement, but crawlspace/cellar is more accurate - it has an egress door and a dirt/gravel floor.  Two baby gates lean against the wall of the living room - we haven't had to use them in years.  We wrestle with the old-fashioned wooden gate.

The doorways in our new house aren't the same width as our old house.  The original markings that we'd left with Sharpie on the gate are now completely wrong.  It takes us about 6 tries before we get the geometry right.  The gate now blocks the path to the living room.  Bodhi stares at the gate and huffs at us.

"Sorry dude."

He walks away.  He goes over to his food bowl and stands there... crestfallen.  He glances sidelong at us, using his peripherals - I guess he's trying to figure out if we're going to steal his food now too.  He sighs again and slowly sinks to the floor, lying with his head on the rim of his food bowl, but not eating.  He just lies there.  His eyes cut to us and then back to the bowl.  He takes one piece of kibble and begins to chew.  As he finishes the piece, he glances over at us again.  He's holding his breath.  We're holding ours. 

David raises his eyebrows questioningly.  I shrug.  He motions over to Bodhi with his chin.  I shrug again.

"Have you ever seen a dog do this?" he whispers.

"No," I whisper back. "I think maybe his old cat used to stalk him while he was eating."


We sit on the bottom stair, silently watching as Bodhi eats with the daintiness of a 18th century debutante.  He finishes and looks back at us... wags his tail.

A week and a half in... I'm totally going to cave.  I might as well start shopping now for possible quilts we can use to cover the family room sofa. 

p.s.  There IS a dog bed, bought - BRAND NEW - the day he arrived.  It sits on the floor beside the family room sofa - his disinterest is EPIC.

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