It is not at all uncommon for me to leave my house in a reasonably orderly state,
and to come home to something that looks very much like this:
Ok, perhaps I do exaggerate a bit, but I wanted you to get a clear idea of my quandary.
Bear (or ‘Goober’ as I often call him) has a fond appreciation for pulling out anything I have touched, worn, or otherwise come close to, creatively displaying it across the floor of my bedroom while I am away at work. He never chews or mouths anything- just carefully removes whatever possible item of clothing off every shelf or closet he can manage to reach, before strewing it all very nicely across my carpet.
And then he waits.
After hours of anticipation (on his part, not mine) I’m sure you can imagine the delighted doggie grin I’m greeted with after his festivities are over and he watches me survey what he’s done.
For the longest time I couldn’t quite figure why he did this (apart from the fact that he will do just about anything to make me laugh) and finally concluded he was simply being the mischievous scalawag he tends to be sometimes, and let that be that.
As it turns out, my dog is sort of a mama’s boy, and a rather big one at that. I knew this before, but I know it even more now.
It is, you see, I began to notice that whenever I’d come home to find him standing proudly over his inspirational piles of Jen-stuff, he always sort of had a nice girly scent about him…..on one side of his face and body, that is.
Upon further analysis and covert observation, I discovered the prime incentive for his labored tasks: Making a doggie-bed out of Jen.
As strange as that may sound, that is exactly what he was doing. (I know, because I spied on him, and haha! I can still outwit my dog!) After pulling anything that had a hint of my scent on it together into one massive pile on the floor, he did the only reasonable thing a dog could possibly do and sprawled on top of it, rubbing his face across his treasures until he smelled like my perfume and my clothes smelled like him, falling into a blissful, drooly slumber.
I still play along with his game, pretending it’s all very roguish of him, but the truth is that he simply misses his family and has found a way to keep me with him while I’m away.
There’s something very sweet about that I suppose….and also very expensive. You don’t even want to know what my laundry bill looks like on days when I forget to close a drawer or shut the closet tight. I think an investment in serious locks for my closets, drawers and gym bag may be in order.