I just saw the most remarkable thing. It's late at night (about 12:45 on Friday night/Saturday morning) and I'm waiting for the pain reliever with sleep aid I took to kick in, and Atticus was lying at my feet while I played a little World of Warcraft (badly).
Suddenly, my little dog sat up and gave a low growl in the direction of my bedroom door, which was closed. Now, I know for a fact that Betty Boop is asleep in her room and there's no one in the rest of the apartment, but suddenly Atticus is in full growl and the hair all along his spine is sticking up.
Totally freaked me out.
Has a burglar managed to get into the apartment, I wondered, in spite of the bells hanging on the door? Is he seeing a ghost?
Slowly, Atticus inched his way to the door, his hackles literally up, sniffing at something. I looked again at the door, where my scarf was hanging over the door knob, along with one of my hand towels.
Then it occurred to me; he didn't like the shape of the towel and scarf; it must have looked to him like the shape of an animal he didn't know. And suddenly my passive little sissy dog was ready to spring to my defense.
Or maybe he wasn't even thinking about me. Maybe he just wanted to sacrifice me and save himself.
Note to self: Remember that, no matter how domesticated, your dog is still an animal, and doesn't operate the same way you do.
Suddenly, my little dog sat up and gave a low growl in the direction of my bedroom door, which was closed. Now, I know for a fact that Betty Boop is asleep in her room and there's no one in the rest of the apartment, but suddenly Atticus is in full growl and the hair all along his spine is sticking up.
Totally freaked me out.
Has a burglar managed to get into the apartment, I wondered, in spite of the bells hanging on the door? Is he seeing a ghost?
Slowly, Atticus inched his way to the door, his hackles literally up, sniffing at something. I looked again at the door, where my scarf was hanging over the door knob, along with one of my hand towels.
Then it occurred to me; he didn't like the shape of the towel and scarf; it must have looked to him like the shape of an animal he didn't know. And suddenly my passive little sissy dog was ready to spring to my defense.
Or maybe he wasn't even thinking about me. Maybe he just wanted to sacrifice me and save himself.
Note to self: Remember that, no matter how domesticated, your dog is still an animal, and doesn't operate the same way you do.
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