Once again I am dogsitting Bowie, a canine who is very loveable. Bowie could be fodder for a few stories, but tonight I am just going to talk about a couple of things. Bowie has been described by his human parents as a dog for whom there is no such thing as a stranger. Although he is willing to give his affection to anyone (by the way, Halloween was so much fun for him!), he has developed a special bond with me and Trent. It really can make you feel special when a dog actually scampers through the house when you arrive. There is a ritual that has developed over the years any time I come over to visit.
The first part of the ritual, obviously, is the scampering. This is accompanied by delighted greetings and head pats. Bowie then heads toward the kitchen, looking over his shoulder to see if I am following. He goes to the back door and I let him go outside. If the weather is warm and dry, I go out with him. He proceeds to the grass and sits down facing away from me so that petting him will be more convenient. This progresses to tummy rubs before we go back inside. No matter what the weather, when Bowie comes inside he will present me with his backside because he knows that I will scratch the spot above his tail that seems to put all dogs into a state of joy.
I have jokingly said that to Bowie I am not merely Katrina; his name for me is MyKatrina. I think this was proven to be correct when I came over and Thayne's son, Scott, was complaining of backache. I told him to sit on the floor in front of the sofa and I would massage his back a bit. Well, let me tell you, Bowie was not having it! He came over and started to nose my arm. When that didn't make me stop, he pulled my hand away from Scott with his paw. I could almost hear him saying, "Hey, back off, she's MY MyKatrina, not yours!"
Something that is as important to Bowie as love is food. I am proud to say that I am one of just a handful of humans whose arrival can make Bowie abandon his food dish. When I dogsit Bowie, he will try various tricks to convince me that no matter what the clock says, it is time for him to dine. There are various forms of showing off, and most of them include some form of happy barking. Lately, his routine has been to run off quickly and bring back a tennis ball, which he drops next to me a couple of times. He can only do it a couple of times; after all, he is dying of hunger.
This evening I mixed up a dish that included two kinds of kibble as well as some canned food. It was thoroughly enjoyed and the bowl was licked out many times. After he went out for some fresh air, I settled down to watch tv. Suddenly, Bowie jumped up and dashed around the house looking for his ball. As he tossed it next to me, I heard him saying, "This is not the Bowie you prepared dinner for." I looked him in the eye and said, "Your Jedi mind tricks will not work on me," and he immediately gave up and curled up for a nap. What a hoot! Bowie isn't the first dog to try Jedi mind tricks on me (Paris was a Jedi master!) and I am sure he won't be the last. But as long as the force remains strong in me, I think I'll be all right!