How to take care of a pet.
Really, kid, the key is to let *Salvy* take care of *you* ....
He does this already. He slobbers all over your face on a regular basis (and you are strangely impassive, like the Buddha).
When you're upset, Salvy approaches and seems to show genuine concern--and you can tell me I'm projecting, but I'll never really believe that. It's concern. Canine hand-wringing.
Recently, we had balloons outside the house, and Salvy believed that the balloons were intruders. And he was ready to *maul* those balloons--tear them to pieces. He shouted down those balloons for minutes on end. That's love.
Salvy will eat the bits of cucumber you drop on the floor while cooking--the things you inevitably fumble because you aren't paying attention, you're sort of half-listening to a true-crime story on your iPhone--and, in Salvy's presence, you will never need to find extra space for leftovers.
There are minor issues that a pro would address, and of course I haven't addressed them. Pros say you aren't meant to allow your dog to sleep on furniture--and, right, I've neglected this, and so there are large brown stains on the beige Ikea futon. (But can't you just throw a decorative blanket over the stain?)
Also, a pro would say: WALK your dog. Don't let your dog walk you. I don't know how to do this. Salvy absolutely controls our walks. If he wants to be a non-moving pancake for several minutes, then that's what is going to happen.
But I have a solution here: You just stand still and patiently sing Christmas songs. Or you sing show tunes. Your act of waiting becomes a walk down memory lane. That's a small gift that you can give Salvy, as repayment for all that he has given you.
And this is how you take care of a pet.
Really, kid, the key is to let *Salvy* take care of *you* ....
He does this already. He slobbers all over your face on a regular basis (and you are strangely impassive, like the Buddha).
When you're upset, Salvy approaches and seems to show genuine concern--and you can tell me I'm projecting, but I'll never really believe that. It's concern. Canine hand-wringing.
Recently, we had balloons outside the house, and Salvy believed that the balloons were intruders. And he was ready to *maul* those balloons--tear them to pieces. He shouted down those balloons for minutes on end. That's love.
Salvy will eat the bits of cucumber you drop on the floor while cooking--the things you inevitably fumble because you aren't paying attention, you're sort of half-listening to a true-crime story on your iPhone--and, in Salvy's presence, you will never need to find extra space for leftovers.
There are minor issues that a pro would address, and of course I haven't addressed them. Pros say you aren't meant to allow your dog to sleep on furniture--and, right, I've neglected this, and so there are large brown stains on the beige Ikea futon. (But can't you just throw a decorative blanket over the stain?)
Also, a pro would say: WALK your dog. Don't let your dog walk you. I don't know how to do this. Salvy absolutely controls our walks. If he wants to be a non-moving pancake for several minutes, then that's what is going to happen.
But I have a solution here: You just stand still and patiently sing Christmas songs. Or you sing show tunes. Your act of waiting becomes a walk down memory lane. That's a small gift that you can give Salvy, as repayment for all that he has given you.
And this is how you take care of a pet.
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