My dog and his human

This is how he sleeps. With five pillows.

I use one. R uses three. I’ve always been on her case for using three pillows.

The boy has learnt from her, and then left her behind.

Then there’s me.

I’m not allowed, by R, to put dishes in the dishwasher. She has her method of placing the dishes, and I apparently mess it up.

I’ve been trained to rinse the dishes and place them on the kitchen top above the dishwasher. She puts them in later.

Last night I cleared the sink after dinner and placed the dishes above the dishwasher. Took me a moment to realise that she’s been in India for a couple of days, and I am allowed to put the dishes in while she’s away. My training has been thorough.

To confuse the anthropomorphizing further, my dog learns better than me, while I’m trained better than him!

Missing Chewie

I’m working upstairs. He’s gone with R to her friend’s place for the afternoon.

Every time I move, or the breeze comes in, or a car takes a turn in the cul-de-sac behind me, or I imagine any sort of noise, I take a quick look at the door, half expecting him to have come upstairs.

He spends his afternoons upstairs, sleeping behind me. Even when R is at home, he ditches her after an hour on the sofa and comes upstairs to me.

He comes into my room, softly lick my hands, gets a few ear and head rubs, tries to get me to give him belly rubs, and then lays down behind me to quietly sleep.

No one’s coming upstairs today to check on me, to give me kisses, to demand rubs, and to quietly fill the room with his body smell.

I’m missing my boy.