Doggie Mood Swings
AJ Robinson

Gandalf (above)d is quite the frisky dog, even for small dog. He can be quite a handful. Just the other day, he was making his wishes known to my wife, Jo Ann.

Gandalf wanted attention.

As Jo Ann sat on the couch, he stood before her, close to her, and insisted she take care of him. Well, she was trying to put her shoes on and get them tied. Thus, she had to push him away. It was simple; Gandalf wanted attention.

Gandalf didn’t let anything stand in his way. He just moved back, right under foot. A determined dog is he.

Jo Ann pushed Gandalf away three times before he got her message; he was not happy, let me tell you. He walked away and came to me. I was sitting on the other end of our L-shaped couch; he tried to jump up next to me.

After his third jump, I gave up and helped him up. He sat there next to me, looked up at me and turned to look over his shoulder at Jo Ann. His look said it all, “See, I don’t need you, I love Daddy more, for the moment.” He then flopped down in my lap, his back to Jo Ann and expected me to pet him.

Gandalf was miffed.

I petted for a minute, but then I needed to grab my cup of coffee. This didn’t sit well with him. I got another of his looks. This one said, “What, you dare to not pay attention to me? I am the center of your universe.”

I made a point of petting him some more for at least few more minutes. All the while Jo Ann tried to get his attention. Gandalf ignored her, which got us laughing.

We both knew that she was his favourite. Anytime someone did anything that even remotely seemed threatening to her, he would attack. Now, granted, all he could really do was bite ankles, but we always had to give him an “A” for effort and bravery. Gandalf never let the size of an opponent stand in his way.

Anyway, I sat with him for a while, gave him a few last pats and then I had to get up. He didn’t help. He stayed across my lap, lying there like a lump; he almost slid off my lap onto the floor, which he would have if I hadn’t caught him. Setting him on the couch, I said goodbye to Jo Ann, I managed to get in a quick kiss before Gandalf could growl at me. Yeah, he truly doesn’t approve of my touching her.

As I walked out the front door, off to work, we weren’t concerned Gandalf would continue to slight Jo Ann. Here’s the thing about good old Gandy, he, as do most dogs, a short attention span.

Capricious affections.

By the time I got back from work that evening, she was once more his favourite. I was just the fellow that lets him out the door, occasionally. Oh, and I let him use part of my blanket when he’s in his little doggie bed. You see, his bed is at the foot of my bed and he rather likes having the end of my blanket draped over him.