Being a Doggy Mama - Dogenstein

I have created a monster.

When Fluffy Bear was away on a business trip, I thought it would be a good idea to invite Puppy Dog up onto the couch. It was kinda nice being able to stroke his head and have him warm my feet.

But now he's got a little too used to it.

I sit with my back against one of the arms of the couch - it's at right angles to the TV. Puppy Dog jumps up and positions himself, like a Sphinx, between me and the back of the couch. Then, over the course of an hour or so, he stretches out and slowly pushes his paws against me.

Without realizing it, I shift back and bend my knees until, eventually, Fluffy Bear starts to giggle. Then he gets my attention and points. And I see that Puppy Dog now has two thirds of the couch, and I am scrunched up one one side of it.

He's transforms into The Sofa Stretch Sasquatch!

I am starting to ache while Puppy Dog is fully stretched out, head back, breathing deeply and evenly, completely Zen. 

A few months ago Fluffy Bear brought me home some of those hotel spa slippers - the white fabric ones. I don't know what is on the bottom of mine, but they make a crrrrrt crrrrt sound if I drag my feet along our wooden floors.

 

I noticed that Puppy Dog's ears twitched at the sound and he started to follow me around sniffing at my feet when I wore them. And so, of course, I started dancing around, scraping my slippers on the floor. And - surprise, surprise! - he went for them.

He transforms into The Sabre-toothed Slipper Killer.

So now we have a game, sometimes started by me, sometimes started by Puppy Dog jumping me unexpectedly and usually ended by me when the teeth start to feel a bit too sharp. Which doesn't take long.

Puppy Dog follows me into the bathroom when I have a pee. One day I waved my piece of toilet tissue in front of his face, and there began The Loo Roll Game.

He transforms into The Toilet Paper Jaw Snapper.

So now I can never just pee in peace.

I have to wave the toilet tissue around, purposefully grazing Puppy Dog's whiskers. He sits, mouth open, teeth bared, watching the paper like a hawk. His head moves, just a little, from side to side. He waits, like a true hunter, for his chance. And then he snaps his jaws shut.

He usually catches a small piece of the paper, chews it, rolls it around on his tongue and then spits out a little wet blob onto the floor for me to enjoy picking up...

Little Monster!