The Dogs Hate Mondays

When I say “the dogs” I really mean Larry and Howie. It may be that Junebug is such a daddy’s girl that she doesn’t notice my presence (or lack thereof), or it may be that she is just overall a mellower dog than the Terrier mixes, but she doesn’t seem to notice Mondays.

You see, the boys hate Mondays because I am not there. After two days of me being mostly home (even on crazy weekends like this last one, we all get to sleep in together), I am suddenly up and out of the house most of the day. (C has the summer off from school, so is home every day.)

They don’t bother C during the day, or anything. But the second I get home, I am basically not allowed to do anything other than pay attention to the dogs. If I want to write a blog post or do something at the computer, there’s a Howie dog under my desk using his nose to push the keyboard tray back, or just constantly pumping my elbow as I’m trying to use the mouse.

Larry then gets on the corner of the bed or the footstool we have next to the bed and stretches himself to my shoulder, then starts scratching at me until I turn around to pet him.

Neither of the dogs needs anything. We go outside as soon as I get home. They don’t eat until a couple of hours until after I get home. But that doesn’t matter. The boys need my attention, and how dare I give it to the keyboard.

Last night I gave up early and got on the bed to watch a movie. That way they can come cuddle with me. There is more than enough room for all 3 dogs, C and I on the bed. But what happened? As soon as I wasn’t at the computer, Howie settled into his little dog bed. Larry cuddled for a few minutes but then decided he needed to go stand watch at the front window to guard against motorcycles.

That’s right, as soon as I gave into their demands, they decided I wasn’t important anymore.