Your dog has appointed himself manager
Have you ever noticed that dogs do not believe in personal space?
Your chair is their chair.
Your couch is their couch.
Your clean clothes are apparently a landing pad.
And a closed door?
That is betrayal.
This week, I am writing about the strange little government dogs establish inside our homes. They appoint themselves Head of Security, Chief Food Taster, Delivery Inspector, Couch Acquisition Specialist, and, in Tucker’s case, Director of Operations.
They can ignore you calling their name from five feet away, then hear a cheese wrapper open three rooms over.
They can reject a warm bath but fling themselves joyfully into a mud puddle of questionable origin.
They can also stare at your sandwich as though they have not eaten since 1947.
And somehow, despite the barking, muddy paws, stolen seats, and occasional pumice stone carried proudly through the house, they become some of our best companions.
Come laugh with me about dog logic, unconditional loyalty, and the ridiculous ways they run our homes.
Read the post: https://wp.me/p9vUsN-47m
Then tell me: What official job title has your dog assigned himself?
All about you.