When you’re a dog, there are certain things you learn to do early in life.
Like ask to go outside. This is something every dog does differently. Some jump insistently at the door jamb, scratching at the glass. Others have learned to ring a bell. Some, like Koa, wait until they are positively bursting at the seams, sit silently for 30 seconds and, if no one comes in that time frame, go and pee on the floor. Dogs like Brody are stoic, waiting patiently but insistently at the door and nudging you gently if you have missed the message.
My point is, Brody is pretty laid back about the whole going outside thing. I’d like to go, but no rush, man, when you get a minute.
There are exceptions to this rule, urgent matters that override Brody’s maturing mellow demeanor. Certain extenuating circumstances still trigger Brody’s exuberant Dug-like determination to investigate, like, immediately, and when that happens, all bets are off.
It doesn’t take a lot to trigger this, truth be told. Most vertebrates will do the trick.
So when I see Brody doing the thousand yard stare, intent and purposeful, I hesitate before opening the door, lest an innocent beastie get a horrible drooly surprise.
Particularly when, doing a quick geometric assessment of the angulation of his head, I can determine the target is on the back doormat.
But soft! What light through yonder back door breaks? Tis the east, a lizard basking in the sun!
I have never met such a brave little lizard. Usually, as soon as they figure out they are being coolly evaluated, they skitter off into the bushes, but this one remained. I couldn’t bring myself to open the door even just to shoo him off.
Perhaps it wasn’t bravery, maybe he was just too scared to move, but I like to imagine it was the former. He couldn’t have missed the spectacle of Brody looming over him, hot breath misting on the window in anticipation of a gleeful greeting. But he stayed there for a good five minutes, even scooting over when the shadow started to creep over his back half.
I like to think he was just stubbornly determined to take advantage of this prime basking opportunity, lurking predator or no. Maybe he was simply supremely confident in his running skills, a reincarnated Olympic sprinter, and decided to take his chances and just leave if he was forced to. Or when he felt like it, which fortunately for me happened before Koa took her position at the door. Because when that happens, that door gets opened, no matter what.
What kind of door alarm does your dog use?