Cooking, loving and hating by a regular inebriate, master thesis-dodger, pseudo-foodie and all-round trouble maker.

Thursday, 31 January 2013

Oh my beautiful captor...




BEFORE anyone recommends a therapist, let it be known that I am talking about my dog. Ahh, now that I typed that I see that a therapist might still be required.

I got a puppy in 2007 – out of a cardboard box. An error of backyard breeding that no one wanted.  He was sickly and stayed that way for the first two years of his life. I cooked him chicken and rice, and sometimes I had to feed him with a spoon.

Eventually through good feeding and lots of love he thrived. And he got big...and bigger...and really rather huge now by normal standards. The thing is, he doesn't like to be away from me. Ever. He also doesn't like dog sitters, at all.
A little friend

Grows steadily bigger...





This behavior hasn't stopped, just ask what's left of my shoes...

Becomes a monster


Last year he was being babysat while I scooted off to watch Uriah Heep. He barricaded the door. That's right – he stayed in my room and moved furniture so that the door cannot be easily opened. He has now learnt to open doors and windows.
Of course when the door won't open he will do battle with it...he is usually victorious


He doesn't like to be out when we are away, and he likes-ish to be in with the option of going out should he feel the need to make absolutely sure we have in fact left. He howls like a wookie.
He can also be credited for putting me off The  Brandenburg Concertos permanently. After going into the vet to have a benign tumour removed he decided I am a shit dog owner and howled and felt incredibly sorry for himself. I tried to play him Bach to calm him down (hey, at 3am you'll try everything). It did not work, despite Bach's best efforts and mine too.
The next day the whole ordeal was almost totally forgotten.

He now comes to work with me.

Don't let his size, his hatred for doors, love for chewing shoes or criminal cleverness fool you. He is a big old cuddle-bottoms and he has been busted snuggling cats.

Tomorrow night we are having a blow-out with a few close mates for my 30th. You guessed it – he'll be there too. It this Stockholm Syndrome?

He came to lunch today...




Of course if you are going to be held ransom by a dog, who wouldn't choose such a clever, quirky, handsome fellow?



2 comments:

  1. He's a very handsome guy. Being held captive by him wouldn't be that much of a hardship. :-)

    How was the party??

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    Replies
    1. Took me two days to recover, that's how you know it was a goodie :)

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