My boyfriend and I are a good fit. But we commonly have a difference of opinion in one area.
She is the sweetest, most lovable Scottie in the whole wide world.
She's also a Terrier.
Known to the veterinary world as sweet, but stubborn, she's one smart pooch.
Take for instance, the 'concern' I hear from him about how l--o--n--g it takes for her to go potty. She sniffs, and sniffs, and sniffs. She has to check out every blade of grass to get her business done. Doesn't matter if it's 100' or -10' outside; although he really seems to be more 'concerned' when it takes even longer in sub zero temperatures. It drives me crazy when she does this, he tells me.
She's a terrier, I reply. She's in charge, and she's knows it.
Hmm, he says. He's pondering my statement. But she's so sweet, he replies.
Um hmm, I say.
Another example: since we've been dating, the dog gets more biscuits--bribery to get her off the bed, off the couch, so we can have our own snuggling time. On the bed, off the bed, on the bed, off the bed, (do you see a pattern, here?) biscuit, biscuit, biscuit. She goes to the vet and he is told she is too heavy.
Egads! He's taken aback. How does this happen? he wonders.
Right. When I visit, more biscuits are needed, therefore I am the culprit.
What shall I do? he asks.
Stop feeding her so many biscuits, I say. She's got this bed-on-the-biscuit thing all figured out.
Hmm, he says. He's pondering my statement. But she's just so sweet, he says, she just wants some attention.
Um hmm, I reply.
What? What's that supposed to mean, he says, hurt that I would even utter such a sound.
She's a terrier. She's got you figured out. Yes, she's sweet, but she's no dummy.
Hmm, he says.
Fine, put her on a diet, then.
Oh lord. That went over well.
To make up for that terrible slip, I allow Sammy the Scottie to infringe on my time with her dad on the couch. She hunkers down inbetween us and starts panting. He doesn't dare disturb her as he plays twister just to touch my shoulder.
Ah, how sweet, he says! She just wants to touch both of us.
I finally resort to a more honest answer.
She's jealous, I respond.
Hmm, he says. He thinks about this for a minute. Do you really think so?
Umm, I say.
But she's cute, and sweet, he replies, one last time.
Yes, she is, I say.
And no matter what I say, I love her.
NWinkler, 4 years ago | FlagThis sounds familiar! My husband's dog, a mutt from St. Kits, runs the show and knows it! I don't know how many times Jack and I have had "dominance
" issues over the pillows and what is technicall y my side of the bed. But, he was with my husband long before I entered the picture, and it is a relationsh ip I have come to respect and appriecate . After all, nothing is more endearing to a woman's heart than to see a "boy and his dog."
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