Returning home from Mansfield today, I glanced back at the dog and wondered if he was really that tired or if riding in the truck caused that expression on his face. His eyes were woebegone and he just kind of drooped. When we got home, he was excited to see his own back yard—without having the need to remark all of his territory. He happily chased up and down the side fence in a cuss fight with the neighbor’s bitch, but he only made three or four mad dashes along the fence before he was satisfied and came back to the back porch. He wanted IN, thank you very much. He wanted to lie down on his floor, on his rug, near his cat and near his family. He is only three or four years old—mentally reminding myself to check the date with his vet. But he has worked hard since Wednesday night when we went to Mansfield.
Animals that don’t actually peck each other have to establish their territory in some manner. Dogs that are not allowed to fight must see who is tallest and whose leg will stretch highest when they mark their areas. It has to be exhausting work. And to top it off, two cats sat in the back door and laughed at the dogs through the window. Then it was also obvious that some kind of female furball that looked like a dog and sounded like a dog was allowed to sleep under the covers with the big dogs. And to top it off, the boys left for the weekend and didn’t stay and play. For a dog, that has to be a tough situation.
Riding for two and a half hours in the back seat of the truck with several loaves of fresh spelt bread that couldn’t be touched would have tortured the cat, but the dog took it all in stride until the stop at Braum’s. The place just smells so good! And nobody notices that the dog is sitting here drooling! Sigh….
Well, one can of dog food and the cleanup of the cat food later and the dog is now resting on his bed. Back to just living with the old folks should be pretty relaxing. Maybe tomorrow a new ball will show up in the yard…..