Jilly wearing a faux Fox stole
Have you met my dog Jilly? I know I talk about her as if I actually gave birth to her, now that would be hairy baby! Though her breath stinks and she smells a lot of bums. She is indeed my fur baby. I think living in a teeny space with hubby and I has warped her a bit... though not in an entirely dangerous way. This beautiful little Peagle- a 3/4 beagle, 1/4 pugg is stubborn like a me and loyal like hubby. She is also deathly afraid of being locked out of the bathroom and street signs that spin and plastic bags blowing in the wind (which are the most beautiful things in the world)- and men with hats and men in puffy jackets and people coming around corners and anyone trying to pet her and tell her she's a good girl. She is in fact a good girl, she just has low self-esteem, and gets embarrassed when people mention it. Oh but if she knows you have a treat, she will risk life and paw, to ensure that she gets it, dragging me to the bank and the concierge and the pet store and every dog walker in the city. As for nature vs. nurture, Hubby and I have nurtured the heck out her, perhaps too much? Whoa, whoa is that what people mean by spoiled? Oh snap. I spoiled my dog, I mean she sleeps curled up between my legs, pawing at me to create her ideal diamond shape sleep tank, my poor Mama while minding her over Christmas found this out the hard way, when my stinkeroo-puppa wouldn't sleep anywhere than with her: JILLY DOWN! At my parent's house she is obsessed with running the stairs- thundering down only to reach the bottom and speed through the room then bury her head shoulders deep in Reba's toy basket (Reba is my parent's huge Basset Hound. We call her the Big Lady), pulling out the deepest toy she can get a chomp on, sending the rest flying. Shaking the pink pig with the squeaker until she's dizzy and panting, collapsing onto the floor, after a brief rest period, she musters the strength trudging to the couch where Papa Bru has been all evening, steals his blanket and burrows into the split between the cushions and the couch, wrapped in his pre-warmed blanket. Oh my Jill-Bean she's a snuggle bug, though if cuddling was your idea, she lets out a sigh/grunt/whine to ensure you know she will tolerate your affection though she's not happy about it. Can I also mention her rawhide-ing problem? The Big Lady loves untying the knots in rawhide, so Jilly finds these long, generally pointy pieces of gross smelling half chewed whatever it is and buries them. She hides it in corners behind cabinets, and buries it deep between cushions, any super secret space she can find. My favourite is the invisible dirt she thinks the carpet is made of, nosing the fibers trying to cover her dirty stinky secret treasure, treasures my Mama will keep finding for weeks after our visit. As for her dog park antics, she has created a complex game requiring many players, where she runs in a circle, growling at herself, hoping others will take up the chase and when they do she turns the tables, changing directions, usually causing a 10 dog pile up. Also interesting when she really gets growl-running she sneezes, a lot, which I would think she gets from me, cause I only sneeze 5-7 times if I sneeze once, which I get from my Papa Bru, aren't genetics something?
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