Off-Topic Share your animal friends!

About a month ago, I was talking with Andrew over at Lucky Dog knives about one of his uniquely designed knives. I was looking for a Ranch Dog, but somewhere in my sleep addled mind at the end of a 104 hr. Work week, I got to thinking of it as a "Sheepdog". a day or two later a really, really unfortunate situation arose next door to one of my closest friends. It was a Friday night, but rather than eating a celebratory cheat meal and watching TV, we ended up going on a dog rescue. Thus...I finally got my "Sheepdog"! Can you believe he was scheduled for execution the next business day when we got him?!

I love this gentle beast. he fell into my household like he had been born there.

On another note, I soon hope to have a Ranch Dog, which will likely pull duty keeping my sheepdog de-matted...
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Willow, who sleeps with me every night. I have to be careful as she is a love biter.

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Quest, our two year old super athletic cocker whose tail seems to never stop.

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And our dear departed Rosie, with her amazingly acrobatic ears. RIP Rosie your ashes will be home soon.

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I'm going to paraphrase the discussion Smokey and I had just now when I was getting his dinner. He was sitting on the "I want more food" chair, watching me cook my own dinner. I cut a little piece of cheese, and ate it, and cut a little piece off for him too. I knew he wouldn't eat it, but I offered it to him.

"You wanna try a piece of cheese?"

"I'll examine it and sniff it, but I won't take you up on it."

"Okay, I know you don't like it. It's fine. You want dinner?"

Jumps down off the "I want more food" chair, and follows me to where I get his dinner. "Of course I do!"

"You realize it's going to end up in your bowl, like every other time, right?"

"Of course"

"Okay so why not go wait by your bowl?"

As I open the container on the counter with his food in it, he, predicably, stands up on his hind legs, with his front paws on the pantry door, eagerly trying to get closer to his food. Then, as I scoop a piece out, and walk over to his bowl, he zig zags between my feet, keeping in lock step with me (slowing my progress to his bowl, lest I kick him). And then inserts himself between me and the bowl, as always, requiring me to circumnavigate him lest his attempts to head butt my hand holding the forkful of meat cause it to spill on the ground. I finally get the food in the bowl, and wonder my ever wonderment at the lack of efficiency of my cat's routine of active dinner solicitude.
 
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