Mr. Woo is A Very Jealous Dog. He cannot abide anyone else to getting attention he believes is rightfully his. Which is all attention. Thus has the jealously of the clothes brush come to pass … once, when my vacuum cleaner was out of commission, I resorted to de-hairifying my area rug with the clothes brush before guests were due to arrive.
I laughed. Big Mistake.
To this day, when I try to remove Woo-and-Nutz hair from my bedspread, Wootie leaps on the bed and “attacks” the brush. I yell “Wootie, get off the frickin’ bed!!” and he does a playbow, and evades me, but won’t get off the bed. Or he gets off the bed, and then gets right back on it again. I still laugh!
Probably this is a really bad idea, but I find it amusing. It’s like her lips are connected to my nose, marionette-fashion. When I go in for a snuzzle, out come the pissed-off teeth. One day she is going to lose it, and bite me, and then I’ll be sorry. I probably won’t laugh then.
When I whip out the gumboots, Tweed begins to yodel. It starts with a singing full body stretch, and I like to tickle his throat while he does it so the song is all warbly. I am easily amused like this. This doesn’t seem so bad, but his vocal range intesifies with each passing year. The more Tweed ages, the louder he gets. He is also a HUGE ham, so every time I laugh, he sings more complicated tunes. It goes like this: Tweed yodels, Food Lady yells “shutup Tweed HAHAHAHA I mean, shut up! HAHAHAHAH.”
By the time he is a senior, he’ll be screaming operas at me, and the neighbors will be calling the police.
iv. Mr. Woo’s “go-to” response is ROLLOVER
It’s just bad. No matter what you tell Noodles to do, he rolls over. And not a submissive roll – it’s completely enthusiastic. It was the first thing I taught him, and the only thing he seems to retain.
v. Tweed wears anything I tell him to. This is not so much a Tweed thing as a mean Food Lady thing. And it’s not that I laugh at him because he does it, but I laugh when I make him do it. I’m such a sadist.