Meet "Bud". He's about five years old, almost that many pounds and as ferocious as a wolverine, in a five pound ratdog sortaway.
His full-time attendant is down for a couple of weeks, recovering from cataract surgery. Since she can't bend over until after her follow-up with the opthalmologist, caring for Bud was out of the question. As aesocial as Bud is with other dogs and some people, I don't think he would have done well at the kennel. He and I went to a concert at the park last night and had to come back home as he was being very disruptive. What the hell, he's a dog, he's gonna act like one I guess. If he was mine, I would train his bad habits out, if possible. Then again, the look he gave me when I had to "dominate" him to get him to stop barking was "Hey, see how much you like it if you go to sleep a guy and wake up without no balls!". He's a lot like a toddler. As long as he can see what's going on around him, he's a lot happier. So, I put his little bed on a bench that gets him about my level when I'm working on the computer and I try to keep track of him when I'm using power tools.
He has "food issues", as in he won't eat most of his dogfood. S'okay. I made some grilled chiken with steamed broccoli and brown rice and mashed some up for him. He went to the bottom of the bowl on that one!
I'm actually hoping my two weeks with Bud will convince me that I should not have a dog around the house or that I should. Either way, he's having some fun and wondering who the hell the strange "mom" is.
Bud no longer has any food, pooping, chasing the ball, barking for no apparent reason, chasing the ball, honking the squeeze toy, chasing the ball and chasing the squeeze toy issues. I on the other hand have taken to laying in the corner on my people pad and snorting from time to time and licking my--oh, never mind. We're fine!!