The Wrath of Buddy

So this week I got in biiiiiig trouble with Buddy. Hoo boy!

Buddy, as you may know by now, is an extremely sensitive dog. My husband and I refer to him as an indigo dog (based on a book called Indigo Children which is all about very senstive children and how difficult our harried, modern world is for them). When I took Buddy to the groomer, he wouldn't look at me or cuddle with me for two days. When Mark went away for 5 days this summer, Buddy gave him the cold shoulder for almost a month. If dogs in the park play a little too rough, Buddy runs over and barks at them and if their owners try to discipline them, Buddy tells them off too. He likes predictability, harmony, and a constant flow of treats.

Buddy has a signature move that lets us know when we've displeased him somehow. On a typical evening, Mark and I each occupy one end of the couch (scrunched up to make more room for his royal heiny-ness) while Buddy sprawls in the middle. We then usually laugh at him and poke him and play with his ears. But if one of us goes to far, he lets us know. Usually this one is Mark so I'll explain it that way. First Buddy will huff, a quick, audible exhale of disapproval. Then he will slowly get up and reposition himself right in tight against me and settle in with his back against my legs or side, facing Mark. He will then give Mark "the stare," glaring at him while he nestles into me, just to make it really clear who is the favoured parent, and who is in the proverbial doghouse.

Well this week I was the target of the stare and Mark was the chosen cuddler. My vast offense? I wouldn't let him lick my pants. Buddy is spoiled, this is not news to anyone. I had been eating crackers in my pj's and wiped my crummy fingers on the outside of my thigh. For some reason, Buddy felt this was a clear indication that he should be able to lick my pj's. I will let Buddy do many things but I will not let him lick people's clothing. I have to draw a line somewhere and that is where I drew it. Buddy was not pleased. It was over TWO HOURS before he would cuddle with me again.

Take heed you of the crummy hands. Invoke ye not the wrath of Lord Budworth Fussington III unless you are prepared for the dread horror of his soul-shattering Stare. :)