While I’m working on a Master’s degree in Adult Education, I’m staying with my parents … and their poodles. Masika D. Greyt, my crazy bird, is not impressed by furry, four-footers, and honestly, I can’t say I’m a fan either. They’re often tripping me up and barking at inopportune times, like when I’m trying to sleep. Still, I have a good place to crash while I study and work, so that’s a wonderful thing. I can deal with the poodles, and, well, Masika will cope, as long as I shoo the mutts out when they invade her territory. My bird’s pretty easy to read, and I know my own feelings, of course, but I was recently amused to find out what the dogs think about this arrangement. I already had a couple good guesses. Ginger is either running from me or begging for food. Chanel hides from me whenever she’s not smacking me in the leg with her nose.
Most of the time, my parents are here working on their current project: rebuilding a 1972 Scotty trailer. Sometimes, however, they’re out on their errands before the sun’s fully up. When that happens, the dogs are up with them and bark their fool heads off until it’s time for Ma and Pa to hit the road. Then, if the dogs aren’t going along for the ride, they go crawl back under Ma and Pa’s bed and crash at least until the sun’s up.
On one of those gone-before-sunrise days, I was treated to yappy poodle alarm clocks until Ma and Pa left. Then the house was quiet, and I went back to sleep for a little while. My alarm went off at a reasonable hour, and I went to the kitchen to start my breakfast. As soon as I started making ruckus with dishes, I hear a jingling dog collar coming closer. Ginger trotted to the kitchen and skidded to a stop on the hardwood floor. She took one look at me, heaved a terrific sigh and a whimper, then trudged back to her bed in my folks’ room. Chanel peeked into the kitchen before she, too, retreated to bed.
Sorry, poodles, but if you were expecting Ma, I’m definitely not her.
The poodles… Ginger is the one in the purple shirt. She has anxiety issues and the shirt is her “security blanket.” The other one is Chanel, who’s pushing most of 14 years old these days. Technically, Ginger is Chanel’s dog and Chanel is Ma’s dog. My pa used to have a nutty English Setter, Katie. When Katie died, Chanel became depressed. Getting her a poodle of her own helped with the depression, somewhat.