It has been a long time since Dorothy has been featured in this blog, and since this was originally a Blog About Dorothy, I feel a bit guilty about concentrating on other beasties, be they two-legged or four. It’s partly that I am busy, and Dorothy really doesn’t like the camera and tends to scamper away when I point it at her. And who wants to read a blog post about Dorothy when it isn’t punctuated by cute pictures? But it is also that although Dorothy and I are quite fond of each other, she is very much a one-person dog, and that one person is her beloved Dad. Sean sometimes feels like he is being stalked by Dorothy, because she is attentive to his every movement (sometimes rather annoyingly so), yet she is always ready for a fun game or outing.
So if it were up to Dorothy, all entries about her would consist of: Dorothy spent the day playing out in the yard with her beloved Dad. They rested inside on the couch and indulged in some kind of meaty dinner followed by a wrestling match. The end.
But I’m sure Dorothy doesn’t want me to give you the erroneous impression that her life is all fun and frolic. For life as a bulldogge in Bulldogge Manor—nay, make that The bulldogge of Bulldogge Manor—is often Hard.
For example, Dorothy doesn’t just have to wait for Plum and Posy to be fed before she gets her breakfast these days; she often will have to wait until Owen is done as well. And although Owen will sometimes share his meal and scatter his food off of his tray for Dorothy to pick up, more often than not, Dorothy ends up with the dog equivalent of a sign on her back that says “kick me,” when the food Owen drops lands squarely out of reach right onto the middle of Dorothy’s back. Who wants to be covered in banana and cheerios? Not Dorothy.
But eventually Dorothy does get her breakfast—a nice venison kibble with some soft venison food as well, and a zyrtec for allergies. And then she gets to go out in her yard! She likes to parade the perimeter and make sure nothing untoward has happened to it in the night. She will likely chase a squirrel or a robin, and get yelled at if she dare go in the direction of the wild rabbit.
All Sean has to do is rap quietly on the window and Dorothy puts up her head in a Dad needs me?! kind of way and then goes running so fast up to the sunporch door that her front legs scissor behind her back legs.
Then often Dorothy is left behind to guard Dad’s Young, a job she takes very seriously.
On a weekend, Dorothy loves nothing more than to help her father out in the yard, although if he is using machinery, Dorothy will be locked into the porch so she doesn’t attack the lawn mower, say, or get whacked with the weeds.
If you need further confirmation of Dorothy’s feelings towards the leader of her pack, I proffer exhibit A, The Nap:
Need I say more?
We often will take Dorothy on a walk with Owen, and you’ll be happy to know that all of Dorothy’s previous walk aversions seems to have dissipated. She now is more than happy to be included and she walks like a champ. One of her favorite things is when we walk to the nearby campus that has tennis courts on it—Dorothy will often walk home with a new tennis ball in her mouth. Finders Keepers!
All in all I'd say Dorothy is happy in the suburbs being a bulldogge in her yarde.