“Remoted” Workday 181 / Day 270 (Friday)

Winnie sporting doggles at the vet.

It’s another Doggy Day Anniversary at the BungaLowell. Nine years ago today, Moose and I met Winston for the first time. It was a deliberately brief visit that was followed later that week with an overnight visit. After the holidays, Winston, aka Winnie / Winnebago / Boo and a list of other nicknames came to stay for good. Before coming to me, Winston lived with one of my roller derby teammates. He's one of many good things that came out of my time in roller derby. 

From the beginning and even still, the two dogs generally give each other wide berth, with exceptions. They never cuddle with each other, but they both cuddle with me, sometimes one on either side, and I’m a fan of that. I’m not sure either one of them knows how to play. Toys are ignored. Tossed objects are not retrieved, instead, the dogs remain still and look puzzled.

Winnie has several adorable behaviors. When we lived in Tennessee, he would disappear each night, and I'd find him tucked into my bed. Nowadays he stays close, and when he wants my attention, he will gently tap my arm or my ankle with his paw. If Winnie is standing, he alternates tapping his front paws like he’s dancing to get my attention. He used to jump straight up into the air to look out the window until he hurt his knee and needed laser treatments, where he flirted with every technician at the veterinary office. 

Unlike Moose, who seems to enjoy yelling at me during most of his waking hours, Winston is the quiet type. Instead of barking at me, Winston blow airs out of his mouth with a sound like “oof.” If I don’t notice him right away, or ignore him to see how things might proceed, he repeats the sound, a bit louder each time. It’s all very genteel. 

Winston used to tuck himself in.

Moose is always close by. So close, that he is literally underfoot and gets stepped on daily, and he doesn’t even seem to notice. Winston, on the other hand, will be in my general vicinity and if I stop or change direction quickly, he squeals like he’s been stabbed when he hasn’t been touched. This is not a genteel sound. Winston can also be as silent as a ninja. He’s smart enough to figure out how to sneak under the gate and squeeze through the small space between the fencepost and the house. He waits in the far corner of the yard until I open the gate, then runs top speed across the yard, through the gate, down the driveway, around to the stairs, and straight into the house. This is assuming I timed my part of the performance correctly and opened the door in time.

Moosie and Winnie have taught each other things. Winston started standing with one front paw lifted from the floor like Moose. Moose used to squat to pee, but now he lifts his leg like Winston does. After Winnie joined us, Moose stopped eating so much fabric. They may not act like best buds, but they get nervous when they are separated.

They don’t play with each other, but they know how to play me. They will both suddenly appear when I’m working and start tilting their heads to the biscuit bin nearby. One will go to the door and signal to go outside, but the other won’t go out. When the outside dog comes in, they run to the biscuit bin for a cookie. Then the dog that stayed in wants to go out, and when he comes in, they both beg at the biscuit bin. It is a masterfully choregraphed production, with a daily matinee.

Every night includes a ritual. While I brush my teeth, Winston slinks into the bathroom like a ninja to watch me. When the teeth brushing is done, Winnie herds me out of the bathroom and towards Moose, and the container of snacks. The bedtime doggy snacks are gathered and the boys escort me upstairs, but it is more likely they are escorting the snacks.

It’s fun with Winston and Moose and I love our little routines. It would be very dull without them. Happy glad I met you day, Winnie!