Monday, May 14, 2018

SOMEBODY Is About To Have The Sweet, Sweet Dropped From Her Title

You know I'm not talking about Sweet Gummi Mary.

I try to make excuses for my Sweet, Sweet Juno. She was a pitiful thing when we rescued her, starving, from my mom's yard, where she'd been dumped at about the age of 4 weeks. Too young to be whisked away from her doggy mother. Never the right age to be dumped along a blacktop road. Yes, my Sweet, Sweet Juno owes me her life. She's been very grateful, until late.

I can understand how Juno grew jealous of Puppy Jack. Even though I made sure she always got a treat when we sat down to pet Jack. She learned to tolerate him, and now will protect him if Copper Jack grows too rough in their play. Besides, she HATES Copper Jack.

You've heard how Juno rushes to scare Jack away and eat his cat kibble once hers is scarfed down. How she roots her head under my arm if I try to pet Jack in equal amounts while they're both standing on the side porch. I scold her, and Juno sits down, looking at me expectantly. It's the one thing I taught her (without knowing it) from puppyhood. If she was being rambunctious (she used to be quite wild and hyper, which I attribute to some border collie genes), I would stand and refuse to acknowledge her. Then she'd sit. Usually on my foot. And wait to be patted and praised. Which I did.

So...yesterday, Juno and Jack had finished their kibble without incident. Copper Jack must have been home celebrating his human mom's Mother's Day, because he wasn't here. Both dogs waited for some extra attention. I curved my left arm over Juno's head, first patting her, then reaching it over to Jack.

Well! That didn't set well with Juno. She jumped up and rooted herself all up in my face, and made sure my arm couldn't reach down to short Jack's head or body. When I moved to the other side of him, Juno ran around and rooted her way in again. I scolded her, and she sat down. But she still reached her head up under my arm. Tried to lean into me so I couldn't get to Jack.

Again, I petted both of them, alternating, while Juno darted around trying to get under my hand. My right arm was full of purse, water cup, and 44 oz Diet Coke. So I only had that one arm to work with. Of course, I'm a human, and was able to outsmart Juno, and devoted myself to bypassing her and petting Jack. Who seemed a little unsure of being caught in the fray.

All at once, Juno took off loping for her dog house around the corner of the porch.

"Well, Jack, I guess she went away mad."

But NO! Here came Juno, right back to us. She ran up to Jack's side, stood until I looked her in the eye, and THEN FLIPPED HER HEAD UP AND LOPED BACK TO HER HOUSE.

Juno gave me the side-eye!

Yeah. You should have seen the contempt in her hazel orbs. I guess she showed me! She came all the way back, not to be patted, but to show her displeasure with me.

I think Juno was also miffed because I gave Jack a pork-steak bone as I left for town. I'd originally called for Juno, intending her to have it, but she wasn't in her house or on the porch then. Jack came trotting around, and was happy to have it. He took it down to sit on the brick sidewalk by the garage.

I saw Juno sniffing that area when I got back, right before the cat-kibble dole-out.

She definitely knew.


River said...

She's just going to have to live with it, learn to deal with the fact she isn't the only dog on the ranch.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Like me, Juno is old now, and set in her ways, and pretty much thinks her world (me) owes her special treatment.