Every morning I go through the same routine with my dogs. It’s not a normal routine. I think they’re all a little bit crazy, or maybe a little bit genius.
Koda is 11 years old and one of the sweetest dogs you’ll ever meet. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. There’s one thing you need to know about Koda; he has anxiety disorder. And, one of the things he’s afraid to do is walk down the three back steps of the deck even though each step is about 8″ high. But — he’ll jump off the front porch because it’s only one step. And, Koda does not like to walk on hardwoods (although, taking a nap on the cool floor is fine). So, every morning I need to line up carpet runners from the living room to the front door — with virtually no floor showing — for him to go outside. When he’s ready to come back in, I open the door and wait. He looks at me. He sits there. He won’t come in. That is…until I go back into the house, close the door, and pretend he missed his opportunity. Then, when I re-open the door he will ALWAYS come in.
Forrest is the youngest of the three dogs turning one next month. Forrest will jump the fence in the back yard, so I can’t simply open the door and let him out. He needs to be on a runner. He knows that I’d like him to go out before he gets fed in the morning, so he walks around the side of the deck and pretends to go to the bathroom, then comes back in. I caught on to what he was doing when he needed to go out again immediately after eating. And, when I get the dog food bowls ready, he immediately sits down and raises his left paw to shake because he thinks he needs to do this in order to get fed.
Cosmo will bark at the back door every morning to go out. When you open the door he refuses to leave the house. He just sits there and stares at you. Now, the door is open, he needs to go to the bathroom, and he won’t leave the house…until I step out onto the back deck and personally invite him outside. As God as my witness.
Please tell me my dogs are not the only ones that are nuts.
side of the neighborhood. We saw cats at every turn. Just sitting there, staring at us, like targets. What was going on? A cat gang on every block? Who was the leader? The term “Cat got your tongue?” took on a whole other meaning.
She informed me that there was increased activity in the dealings of catnip, or “NIP,” on the streets. That more and more kittens were being born — never knowing their fathers. 
runs away when you open it, and finds comfort in relieving himself on the upstairs hallway carpet.
sacrificing style.
