My dog has been hanging around with a bad influence. Her name is Hannah.
She's a bad dog. Bad bad bad.
Beanie loves Hannah. Reminds me of my first girlfriend. Beautiful, smart and deeply troubled. Whenever Hannah's owner pulls up, Beanie is beside herself, wagging all over, whimpering at the door to get out.
Hannah is a gorgeous pure black German Shepard. She's a decedent of Rin Tin Tin. She's the dog of the carpenter who has been working on my house. Her coat is shiny and thick, she has eyes that sparkle with intelligence.
And she's naughty.
My dog is the epitome of a good dog. She listens to commands. She doesn't need repeated training sessions or alpha rolls. I don't even have a fence around the yard because she knows where the lines are and says in them.
Good dog. Smart dog.
I went to leave yesterday morning, and as I turned onto the next street- not my street, but the next one- there were Hannah and Beanie. Beanie was on the sidewalk and Hannah was swaggering down the middle of the road.
Very bad dogs.
Funny, it made me think of my boys. Which one will be in the middle of the street? Which one will be on the sidewalk? Will any of them know not to leave the yard?
I yelled both their names. Beanie turned around and ran towards my car with the hopeful look, Are we going for a walk in the woods? To which I simply extended my arm and pointed towards the house.
She put her head down and went straight back toward the yard. Not another word was needed for her.
Hannah... well, Hannah looked at me like she had no idea who the heck I was and kept going in the opposite direction until she saw Beanie. Then she went up and tackled my dog, playfully, as if to say,
Don't listen to that bitch.
Beanie kept going, Hannah kept dancing around her.
Bad dog. Bad influence.
What will be next? They're both out in the front yard smoking pot, chasing cars?