Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Angry Snore
I have an adorable bargain bin puppy who is supposedly a half black-lab, half border collie mix *coughbargainbinpuppycough*. Though, he looks all black lab with a really long face, he holds his whip-tail like a border collie. I can believe he is this mix. His name is Ajax and he's incredibly cute in the face and horribly obnoxious when he tries.
He was more energetic than usual today (which means he was like Gordon Flash with Fur on Crack) and I could not seem to wear him out. I wanted to get some writing done, because yesterday I didn't have any time before I konked out, dead from my 9 hour shift. Needless to say, my little bundle of joy (read: obnoxiety, yes I made that word up just for him, I'm a wordsmith) wouldn't let me do so today. I played tug with him for about 10 minutes then decided it would be better to play fetch. Ajax loves fetch and we didn't even have to teach him, he brings the ball back automatically because he just LOVES to run (and tug you for ball rights).
I threw the ball so many times my shoulder was getting sore and he was panting like crazy. I thought it would be a great time to bring him in, but apparently he had other ideas. Usually when it's time to calm him down, we put him in his crate to rest. He is very crate-trained, something we have done since we bought him from that shady fellow at the Circle K, whose name or address we never knew... Anyway, it's important for him to have his "safe place", and to know where he belongs when no one is home/everyone is sleeping. It means we don't have puppy piddle all over the house and because we trained him young he -never- gives us a fuss about going in there. Actually, he walks in on his own, sits, and waits for us to close the door. It's GREAT.
Today I said, "Ajax, crate." He walked in, but oh he was not happy. I closed the door and he walked around, whined, growled, grunted, moaned, clawed, banged, scratched and wheezed at me from behind his little crate bars. For ten minutes... that became fifteen... then twenty... then thirty... I was about to tear my hair out. Then, out of nowhere, he slams his body down onto the crate floor (I mean like, pro-wrestling off the turn buckle slam) and falls instantly asleep, emitting the angriest snore I have ever heard. I don't even know how to describe it (and I, a writer!). Imagine a dog giving a constant low growl, then break that up into the steady rhythm of breathing, then put all that through the nose.
It was thrice hilarious, a little pitiful, and very, very angry. Don't be fooled by that face in the upper left-hand corner! Behind those warm brown eyes is an emo-kid waiting to happen.
Posted by J. E. Medrick at 9:51 PM