Where, oh where, has my little dog gone? Around the porch to sleep under the #1 son's window, apparently. I saw her curled up there last night at 2:00 a.m., when I arose from sleep in my recliner to go to bed. Of course I had to look out in case some freezing rain was in the making. No dice. And no ice. But little Juno was there.
At first I had trouble recognizing her, what with her being totally, completely, STILL. I guess she really does sleep. At least between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m., whether she needs to or not. It was the first time I had seen her not in her dog house overnight. She usually lays in there, poised like a tennis match ball boy, waiting for me to open the kitchen door. She passes the time gnawing on one of her 2079 bone fragments.
Poor Juno. Last night, The Pony tossed her a treat, a Chewnola stick. It looked like a giant sesame-seed covered breadstick. But the wrapper said it was a multi-textured dog chew bone. No sooner had The Pony given it to her than it was ripped from her possession by Ann the black shepherd. That happened when we tossed out some bread and a piece of garlic bread. Ann commandeered the garlic bread, then made a grab at the Chewnola when Juno abandoned it for bread. Stale, whole-wheat, sliced bread.
You snooze, you lose, Juno. Because Ann stacks up items in her mouth and heads to more calm climes to enjoy them. Juno also snoozed and losed in the dog house department. This morning we found it full of Tank, the beagle.
The big dogs are taking advantage of my little girl. I'm looking into a way to remedy the situation.