Home: Your Dog’s Castle (or Doghouse)

February 9, 2007 at 9:37 pm (Home Sweet Home)

With love comes compromises. So, when I met my beau two years ago, I also inherited an 80-pound dog, Smidgen. People who have known me for years would never describe me as a dog lover, but after two years, this mutt has definitely grown on me.

The very first time I found myself alone in my boyfriend’s house a short while after we met, Smidgen tried to get up onto the couch. With a stern “off” command, she immediately got down. She had never done this before, so I figured she was simply testing me, thinking she was my “leader” in her pack. She never did try it again, so I figured that was that – or so I thought.

When getting home from work a little while ago, my fiancé decided to peek in the window before coming in, and – surprise! – Smidgen was sprawled out on the sofa like a Super Bowl fan. Of course as soon as she saw him she ran to the back door for her daily greeting.

We caught her doing it again, so now we put a little foot stool on the sofa when we leave the house to prevent her from climbing onto it. Something tells me that she still manages to find a way to squeeze in and curl up between the footstool and the arm rest. I’m tempted to set up a video camera to see what else she’s up to when we’re out.