6 Steps Closer To Paradise

ChemE's dog, Nikki, is a mix of Jack Russell, dachsund and lab. Since it seems clear that Eddie has a generous dollop of JR in his dna we've been comparing notes and trying to determine which traits they share and therefore which are from the JR part of them.

Conclusion? Jack Russells are terrifying.

I think that some people suspect I'm a little paranoid with my studying and controlling and freaking over having a small, smart dog but I present certain evidence that no overreaction is too small. Also, if anyone has a nice canine accounting course I could enroll my dog in it would be much appreciated. Dude needs a job to keep his brain from melting down and/or plotting my elegant demise.

I told ChemE that when I give Eddie a peanut butter and kibble-filled kong before putting him in his crate he's quiet as I leave the house. He never finishes it, though. He waits until I come home and then he prefers to finish cleaning it out while sitting on my lap. Nikki apparently won't finish a raw hide or bone while her people are away, either. She waits until they're home to polish it off.

Nikki also stows treats away in different hiding places. She saves a few in her bed in the basement, under the cushion, for a time when she's made to go in the basement while people are working there. She has a few places upstairs as well, in case the apocalypse comes and all the family members with opposable thumbs are destroyed. Obviously she will survive. She's way too smart to be felled by some stupid apocalypse.

Think it's just weird food behavior? Witness my living room last night.


I have not purchased a bed for the dog. You can call me cruel if you like but my cats tend to pee on anything fabric-related that sits on the floor so I've been reluctant. He's allowed on the furniture, it shouldn't be a big deal. I'm sitting on the couch last night and the dog is doing his normal puttering around thing. We've been playing fetch but he's tired of it. At some point he wanders over to the love seat, selects a throw pillow, grasps the corner in his teeth and drags it onto the floor. I've been thinking about replacing those pillows so I wait to see how this all pans out. He drags it to a couple of places, finally centers it underneath the television and leaves it there. After some more puttering he brings his partially cleaned out kong and places it in the center of the pillow, like a gift for the queen. Once it's settled safely he's off again. After a couple of perimeter checks he's back. He secures the pillow in it's nesting place, moves the kong slightly, climbs onto the pillow and curls up to go to sleep.


That's a multi-step process, no? 1. That bitch won't give me a bed. 2. This would make a good bed. 3. It should go here, where attention is generally focused. 4. I usually have food or drink in my other bed (the crate). 5. I'm tired. 6. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.


I am so fucked.