Okay, specifically? My dog is in a love-triangle with two other dogs and it goes like this:
- Dog A lives with the family to our immediate right
-Dog B lives with the family to our immediate left
-Dog A absolutely loses his mind every time Ginger is in our (securely fenced) yard. I'm sure everyone in the entire neighborhood hates when they are both outdoors at the same time.
-Ginger steadfastly ignores Dog A. There is literally nothing he can do to hold her attention.
-Ginger absolutely loses her mind every time Dog B is in his (securely fenced) yard. I'm sure everyone in the entire neighborhood hates when they are both outdoors at the same time.
-Dog B steadfastly ignores Ginger. There is literally nothing she can do to hold his attention.
Having only recently realized she's an actual dog and not a sixty-six pound infant that I should constantly look at, pet, coddle, and hold in my lap, Ginger quite enjoys being outdoors. On a limited basis, true, but while she's outside she likes it very much. She also makes it abundantly clear when she's ready to come in by standing at the door hoping it will somehow magically open. I didn't say she was a particularly smart dog. Not about everything anyway.
Somehow, because of her amazing dog senses I guess, she always knows when either of the other dogs are outside. Okay, she knows Dog A is outside because he pretty much barks every single second that he's outdoors. I still don't know how she knows Dog B is outside, but she does. Women's intuition or some crap, I don't know. I just know that whenever that dog is outside she is desperate, aching, longing to be outside where he is. So he can ignore her.
Yesterday while I was on a phone call she started losing her crap all over the place so I quietly crept to the back door and let her out. Right around the time I was finishing my phone call I heard her.
It's also important to note that generally? My dog doesn't bark. When we lived in Tennessee I heard her bark exactly two times. Once when a Jehovah's Witness came onto our porch and tried to tell us about Jesus and a second time when Jason was playing with her and she was chasing him. She's not a barker. She's kind of lazy and I assume that barking takes a level of effort that she's just not up to most of the time.
However, since moving to North Carolina and realizing she's a dog and further realizing she's in love with the dog next door? She's, um, found her voice.
I opened the door and called her, "Ginnnnnger!"
She looked around at me and then IMMEDIATELY looked back at Dog B, whom I could barely see through the fence.
If a dog could look at another dog with both bemusement and mild disgust? This dog was looking at Ginger like that. Seriously.
Ginger took this opportunity to start wildly barking again, while wagging her tail. NOTICE ME! I'M A DOG!
"ALRIGHT SNOOKIE," I shouted. "HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU. YOU'RE EMBARRASSING YOURSELF!"
Ginger looked at me, wagged her tail, and continued barking at the other freaking dog.
In about thirty seconds, the other dog meandered away, as though he was totally on his way to something more interesting than what was going on in our yard and couldn't be bothered with my lovely, fluffy, beautiful girl. I was suddenly sad for my dog, and reminded of that boy I had a huge crush on in 9th grade who didn't like me back. One day I called his house and he answered the phone. I asked for him and he said, "He's not here". I totally knew it was him, but I left a message anyway. As though if I left a message he would ponder it and realize what a super awesome chick I was, even though I had a part in my front teeth and none of the cool clothes and I still hadn't figured out my hair at that time. Then he'd call back and ask me out and it would be cool.
I felt super sad that my dog somehow inherited my patheticness. It was not surprising though, as she has also somehow inherited my big ass, dry skin, and fluffy hair.
She however gleefully ran to the porch, blissfully aware that she'd been dissed.
"I don't think he's the one anyway," I told her. She wagged her tail. Probably not in agreement, probably just because I was saying words to her. I deem her listening skills as, "Needs improvement".
Later I wanted to go outside since I'd pretty much been
Ginger walked slowly over to the fence, closest to where he was, and just stood there. She didn't bark. She didn't whine. She didn't even look at him.
She just stood there. Toying with Dog A's emotions.
Dog A is the Skippy Handleman of Gingers life. I'm convinced. All he needs is a pair of nerdy glasses.
I hope the house in the yard behind us doesn't get a dog. I don't know if I can take any more drama.