Ok, I'm feeling pretty down right now, so I thought I might write a little about my dogs. First, there's Cujo, AKA Bell. Not too long ago I caught her outside in total Cujo mode, ready to charge a couple of Mormon missionaries. Maybe that wouldn't be so funny if I wasn't Mormon myself. Yet, here I am with the demon dog, her hackles up - totally Mohawked from the top of her head to the tip of her tail - ready to attack a couple of innocent guys riding around in suits on bikes. Oh well. Don't worry, I saved the day. The missionaries escaped the wrath of my beast. Five minutes later we're watching TV and she's back into being the ultimate, cute and cuddly yellow lab that she is.
Daisy is our golden retriever. She has a talent for being surprised by her own gassy outbursts. First comes the sound. She gets up all startled and confused staring, utterly stunned at her own back end. Then slowly she eases back down to the floor. Daisy's our senior citizen. She's in her teens now, where Bell is only a year and a half old. They make for an odd couple.
Daisy is delicate and dainty. She timidly sniffs at her treats then nibbles at them. Bell chomps the whole thing down in one gulp and looks at you like, so where's the next one already? Throw a ball to Bell, she's off like a bolt of lightening, back in a flash, begging you to throw it again. Daisy never caught on to that concept. You pass a ball in her direction; she'll take the ball then head for her private section of the grass to guard it like a disgruntled bear.
Dogs are some of the best therapy around. That's the truth. Talk about unconditional love. They will never give up on you, even when you can't stand a moment more.
Yeah, so right now Bell is staring at me, laying her head on my legs, basically saying I've given this computer more attention than it deserves. She's the priority around here. Spoiled dog. Why does she have to be so cute about it?
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