I had a serious man to dog chat with Pixie this afternoon.
We've not had many opportunities to be alone together since her life threatening back surgery last October and I thought the time was right.
Many people, including total strangers, had shown concern about her recovery and I'd done my best to give updates via this blog. I wasn't sure she appreciated this. I also felt she needed to be told about a few things that she had to work on as a priority. I know, but it had to be done.
She was doing some therapeutic one leg push ups in her cozy blanket covered bed out in the Florida room whilst soaking up the sunshine that was streaming in through the open windows.
I sat down beside her and told her a few home truths. I wasn't brutal, but I didn't mince my words either.
She paused and listened intently. I reminded her how serious her surgery had been and that even though it cost a lot of money, everyone was happy that it had been done and that she was well on the road to recovery.
That seemed to please her.
But I reminded her that it wasn't all good. I said I didn't like bringing it up at this time but it had to be said - that she still sometimes left us little 'presents' when we didn't take her out in time.
Now I know what you're thinking. Why embarrass her ? Why not just pick up these 'presents' and say no more about it ? Well it couldn't go on. Someone had to be the 'bad cop' and I'd stepped up to the plate.
I told her that was ok but that she really needed to work on that part of her recovery as it wasn't very sociable. I didn't labour the point. I just told it like it was. There. Out in the open. Clear the air, so to speak. Mano e dogo.
I thought she got the message. I really did. There was a definite look in her eye that said "I'll really really try and not poop in the house any more."
I felt I'd got somewhere. That we'd somehow bonded and moved on to a higher level of understanding. It felt good. I felt good.
I got up off the floor and went to go up the steps back into the living room.
As I got to the top step I heard a slight noise behind me; well not so much a noise as a wheeze. A series of wheezes if fact, coming rapidly one after the other.
It reminded me of something, something from my past. A cartoon. Yes that was it. A cartoon character noise. In a flash it came to me. Muttley !! Muttley with the wheezy snicker that usually meant he was up to no good and that he'd got one over his master, Dick Dasterdly.
I swung around and looked at Pixie and I knew, I just knew that on this new level we'd gone to, that she was still the top dog.