This week I have a couple new funny dog stories. I learned that my dog will risk her life for food. Travis and I regularly cart Roxi up to our loft. On the evening of this specific incident, we had taken our dinner upstairs to enjoy. The meal was pork chops and we let Roxi have a few chunks that were leftover on the bone. When we finished, Travis carried her down the ladder and came back up to carry plates. Out of the corner of my eye I see movement. My dog was halfway up the ladder. A ladder that has about seven steps with about a foot and a half gaps between them. A ladder with slats only six inches wide that slants about 65 degrees. I experienced a horrifying parental type moment of dilemma. Do I try and save her and possibly scare her and cause her to fall off the ladder? Or do I just watch the situation unfold and do nothing as she continues her death defying climb up the treacherous ladder? In the end, I had no time to decide what to do before she was up the ladder and in the loft, heading straight for the pork chops.
Our second ridiculous dog encounter of the week involves a husky named Willow. She is one of the neighborhood hooligans. She is skittish around people, she won’t ever let you touch her, but she comes around to play with Roxi. We were out having a fire in the fire pit, complete with s’mores when Willow showed up. She and Roxi chased each other around and Travis tried enticing her with bits of graham cracker and games of fetch, all in an effort to befriend her and be allowed to pet her. Willow, sensing weakness, started a sad little bit of pawing at the mud to make puddles to drink out of. Travis went inside to get water for Willow and that’s when she went in for the kill. All I heard was a slight rustle. Then Willow was tearing off down the driveway with our nearly new bag of marshmallows in her mouth. We were played that day.
