Standoffish?

I went over to see my best friend this afternoon on her day off.   We’re something of best friends through time right now because it seems we rarely get a chance to actually see each other.   But we take what we can get.  

Her family is considering getting a dog—something her children have been hounding her about for several years now.   She was the major holdout but she’s been warming up to the idea.   They kept our dog for two days over Christmas and all loved her.   And interestingly enough, the one who loved her the most was my best friend.   She is now the number one proponent of getting a dog for the family.

She wants, and three out of four children want, a Wheaten Terrier.   Sometimes it’s a matter of what you know is what you like and seeing as they haven’t investigated other breeds outside of the experiences they’ve had at friend’s houses who have dogs, they’re inclined to Wheaten Terrier as a breed because it’s what they’ve been closest to.

That’s not to say the breed wouldn’t be the perfect fit for their family, but I don’t presume what’s right for our family is right for theirs.  

At any rate, I walked over with the dog and when I arrived Matisse was very happy indeed to see my best friend.   My best friend was overjoyed.   She’s like that.  She has that much emotion and love in her heart.

Once we got done with the dog greeting formalities, we sat down on the couch and started talking about…you guessed it, dogs.   She gave me an update on their consideration of a puppy, the talks they’d had with the breeder, how her husband felt, she felt and what her children were thinking about the whole idea of getting a family dog.

Gender came up and the differences between them—specifically the gender differences in Wheaten Terriers.   The advice we’d been given from two different breeders is that male dogs prefer to be in your lap and more direct contact for longer than the females.   As we talked about this we noticed how the dog had gone to the front door and was lying up against it, right beside and almost around my shoes.

Did she need to go outside?  No, she was fine.   Was she wanting to go home?  No, she’d liked that spot before.   Was she being standoffish and just didn’t want to be in the nice warm living room where my best friend had her fire blasting out the nicest hot air?  Was it gender-based?

We weren’t sure.   Or at least we weren’t sure why until I left.   I sat down at the front door to put my shoes on.  My best friend sat down and started petting the dog, who hadn’t moved since claiming the spot at the door.   My best friend laughed and said, “I know why she’s here; feel this spot where the doors meet.”

There was a distinct cool airflow coming in from a location where the weather stripping needed to be replaced.   The dog had wedged around my shoes so she could put her body up against the coldest part of the door, which coincidentally was just as far away as she could get from the overly hot living room and fireplace.

The Big Boy Update:  My son had a long day and he wasn’t happy about it.   Then he was okay about it.   Then he was nice about it.   And then he was angry about it again.  He went from school to neural feedback to pick up his sister and father and then to dinner.   He didn’t get home until 6:45PM.   He told us it was an awful long time to be away from home.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter got a mermaid tail blanket from Santa.   It’s like any other fuzzy fleece blanket, only it’s in the shape of a mermaid’s tail.   She loves it.   It went to St. Thomas and back in her backpack and she sleeps in it every night.   Shortly after Christmas her brother wanted to see what it was like and had just wriggled into it when she realized what he was doing.   She yelled at him saying, “Get out of my mermaid!  You’ve touched every single present I have!"