A Hilarious Dog Story

At least it is to me. I have had dogs all of my life. I love them an awful lot, and I consider myself somewhat of an expert in dog behavior. I mean that from the perspective of an expert observer of dog behavior. No, I still have to scream at Bailey to stop barking at mealtime, and I sometimes have to go out and fetch a Beagle-ish dog doing a nose-down perimeter walk of the back yard when it's time for bed. I can watch my dogs for hours. HOURS, I say. I even like watching them when they sleep.

As anyone who has a dog knows, dogs dream. Sometimes you notice a barely there twitch of a foot. Then two feet start moving. Sometimes you see all four legs going, as though they were on the scent of some critter - it would likely be a rabbit in my house, since my guys acted very gang-like once and trapped one...and killed it. We know it was Boo who done the deed, it's what Poodle-Terrier, uh, I mean Poodle-Terror mixes do. Occasionally the dog will whimper, and even the whimpers have level of intensity: a quiet, very quiet single yelp, or a series, that quick "woo-woo-woo" that Miller does. Fred sometimes has a little growly sound. Bailey is a mover-and-shaker, quite a silent dreamer.

But Homer did something altogether new in my experience of being a dog lover. He was sleeping soundly on the sofa next to Dana. We were watching The Next Food Network Star (which Melissa should win, by the way), and all of a sudden we hear this: Aaaooooooooooh. And then another: Aaaooooooooooh. Followed finally by: aaoooh.

Unbelievably adorable, it was. We didn't laugh howlingly, which is what we wanted to do, because we didn't want all of the boys to wake up. Everyone was sleeping. Dana did give Homer a comforting hug and pet, and he did stop the dream howling. And it was a happy, happy howling, nothing like the howling I get when I come home at lunchtime on Mondays, walk the boys, and then put Homer back in the crate and head back to the office. Yes, he's still being "crate" trained. He's fully housebroken, he's just still in that "everything-in-the-house-belongs-in-my-mouth phase". Unfortunately, that includes dog beds, which are too expensive to risk and very important in giving the impression that we have a modicum of control over all that dog hair.



Homer, he's a keeper.