Poor abused Grady, with the playing and the loving
When I come home from work Grady and I have our “we” time. He grudgingly pays attention to me and I pathetically pay attention to him. All he wants to do is touch me with his nose and give me his ball. Except he doesn’t really want that. He runs up to me to give me the ball, and then quickly thinks the better of it: “What if he takes this as a sign that I care?” and then he flings it away from me. I’m used to his little bi-polarness at this point. Plus, you may touch Grady for a limited time, but if he feels like you are enjoying it too much, he will pull a big sigh and walk away.
So, yesterday I was shaving our couch. Seriously. You know the stupid little lint balls that grow on upholstered couches? Well, apparently you can get those suckers off with a nice pair of clippers. Who knew? Anyway – Grady didn’t want to sit on the couch while I was shaving it, probably remembering all of the horrible times that I tried to hug him or hold him too close, or something. But, he also didn’t want to miss anything wacky that I might do, so he stood on the upper landing of the stairs and watched me.
I eventually coaxed him down with promises of “intent-to-ignore” and maybe, just maybe, a treat…
And he rewarded me with a smooch. The little suck-up knows just when to reel you in with unexpected affection.
Can you believe this? The French have an automatic dog washer. Here is a video… You will have to sit through a commercial, then it will show. Don’t turn on the sound unless you can understand French. In which case, why are you wasting your time here? Go do something smart, with the books and the learning.
I would like all of you to know that Grady would never, ever smooch me again if I threw him into this machine. I mean, really – Look at the first dog that they put in there – He’s totally planning on mauling his daddy.
And, on a cuter note…