The Chief Inspector

I just had to write down this anecdote, it tickled me so much.

I stayed home to work last Thurs and Fri since we had so many dogs and Dave only about half time help. So I've had considerably more doggie interaction in those 4 days that in some time. Of course, the weather turned bitterly cold, and I'm finding I'd just much rather be doing things inside the kennel like cleaning, than be outside watching dogs. I think this arrangement works OK for Dave, since he doesn't usually wrestle me for the scrub brush.

We have a trio of dogs who've stayed with us several times before. Lola is a big, white, fat pitbull type dog. She is the sweetest thing, though she packs probably 70 pounds into her not so huge frame. Her 'siblings' are a pair of pugs, Angus and Brutis. Brutis is quite aged at something like 13 years old. Brutis also has only one eye and both ears look like they've suffered from frostbite. In general he looks a little battle worn. But don't let that fool you into thinking he's decrepid. Quite the contrary he pretty spry, and has this adorable little march where he flipps his front feet out and up when he walks. It's quite histerical.

It didn't take long for me to figure out that when ever I opened any kennel - whether it was to let a dog out or put one in, Brutis usually was on hand trying his best to get into that kennel -- other dogs be damned. I mostly was concerned that someone would snap at him for daring to invade their space, so I had to start putting him away first.

Inevitably he managed to sneak back into the kennel with me one afternoon, when all the dogs were supposed to be out for play time. As I'd had enough of tossing him back out the door, I figured there was no harm in letting him stay in with me as I picked up the breakfast bowls and then dished out dinner.

OH, he was in heaven. Every kennel opened he was right in there, did a circuit around the edges, and then he was ready to move on to the next one! I started calling him the Chief Inspector. Being a pug, and an aged pug at that, he has a very pronounced snorting and wheezing breathing, so I was easily able to keep tabs on him simply by listening for him. Once he disappeared and I found him in the kitchen, but one little call and he came marching and snorting right out to be with me. Then I started dishing out dinner, and most certainly had his every attention. He couldn't quite get his head up into the dog food bin opening (which is all of 12 inches off of the floor) but he sure tried. So I made a point of dropping a kibble every once in a while. Poor thing -- when he actually could see where it went he was estatic to go clean it up.