Monday, August 28, 2006
In general I love dogs. In practice, I love some dogs more than others. For instance, our friends basset hound. Don't love. He smells bad, and he has a listening problem. But in most instances, I love dogs and they mostly love me. I'm an alpha.
Chihuahuas are a longtime favorite, a childhood love. As a baby we had a Chihuahua, Nino, who bonded with me and wouldn't let anyone touch me except my parents. That's a strong kind of love. Since then I've been languishing without a Chihuahua.
My dog, Bindi, whom I love with a passion I share with little else, is possibly the best dog in the world. At least, for me, which is what's so great about dogs. Everyone thinks their dog is the best one. She and I are in a little fight about food right now. She has stopped eating her food, and she is a remarkable hold out. She has barely eaten anything for over a week. I cajole her into eating a little of the Royal Canin kibble each day, feeding it to her by hand. And this is a new food as she stopped eating her Canidae canned food all together. What she wants is people food. And it's my fault. I always share a little of my food with her. I consider treats an enrichment to her life, but now she has become uncommonly fussy. I've never had a dog before that didn't love it's food, so I've made a mistake with her. As second in our pack, I guess she feels she's not an animal. I'm very close to just giving in and baking her a chicken every week. I'm bad. She's winning.