Guest-blogging by Jack
Something bothers me about this blog. He (the Man) has been writing more about Shelby than about me. She is OK, I mean, she's my pal, but she is nowhere as devoted to Them as I am. I am Mr. Dog, if you know what I mean.
It's my job to set boundaries and to point out things that are Wrong. For instance, foxes barking in the night time right outside the bedroom window--very Wrong. It's a good thing that I can bark louder. Why does that upset Them? I'm a good dog. I know I am. Why can't They let Shelby and me outdoors to deal with those blasted foxes?
Or take last Monday. They load us up, and we ride for a long time. When we slow down, and the road gets bumpy, I think we are coming to an Interesting Place for Dogs, and I express myself. Why am I yelled at?
Finally, we do arrive at an Interesting Place. It's a wide path in the snow, and Other Dogs have been here, so I have to sniff and mark. It's what I do.
But then, doggone it, They do something Wrong. Now I love to go for walks. Regular walks in the forest are good. Walks with shotguns and birds are the best, but I'm not picky. But what they do next is Wrong. They are supposed to walk. Instead, They put long things on their feet. They move funny. It's sort of like walking but it's slide-y and faster. It's Wrong. I run along beside Him and tell Him loudly that it's WrongWrongWrong. Does He stop? No!
Instead, He stops moving his legs, but just jabs with these two sticks and goes even faster downhill. Damnit! That is exceptionally Wrong. Humans are not supposed to move that way. I have told Him in the past, so why doesn't He listen? And She is no better. WrongWrongWRONG!
If I try to intervene by stepping onto the back end of the long things, I get yelled at again and smacked with the stick. I know He is not really angry--after all, I am The Dog and no one can really be angry with me--but it is terrible to be so misunderstood. I am just trying to explain Their errors.
After some time and distance, I do get tired of barking. They say that it is because I am "going on ten." Whatever that means. I keep going though. I am not going to let Him get out of my sight, even if I can only critique Him through whining.
And what about that silly collie? Oh, she's stepping into deep snow that comes up to her eyes, and running up to strangers, tail wagging furiously, and generally being her irresponsible self. It's up to me to set the standards of behavior around here.