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juushikaDee's family came down over the weekend. They drove down Saturday the morning, stopped here for a rest while we all went out to lunch, and then Dee left with them to drive a little longer to visit family in state. They spent a day there, then came back up the Sunday evening; they spent the night, and then left Monday morning. Does that make sense? There were some car troubles shortly beforehand, so it was nice that they were able to make it despite them. Her family is very personable, and there were lots of changes around here for them to see, and it seems like everyone had a nice time.
But really, the reason I'm writing is that they traveled with Casey, Dee's mum's dog.
I tend to do best when surrounded by multiple high-social-needs animals, because I have more pettings to give than most animals want to receive. I have to remind myself to hold back on the touch and grooming and affection, or I can overwhelm an animal's desire or even tolerance, and no one wants that. As a result, I get along damn well with pets that just want a little bit of constant love. I rarely, if ever, grow tired of giving one-handed cuddles for a few hours while I read a book or watch TV. In fact it calms me, and grooming animals satisfies my obsessive tendencies, and so if they like it too—then yay.
Casey is one of those dogs that wants nothing in the whole world more than to press against you and receive your love. (Well, he would really like the food on your plate, too.) I met him when I visited Dee in Seattle, lo these many months ago, and we got along famously. These last few weeks I've been missing dogs something fierce, because I am of the rare breed that loves cats and dogs equally, because I was supposed to see dogs two weeks ago before plans for my visit home changed, and because some dogs (especially the dogs I know) are more receptive to that endless sort of love—they just want you to touch them and love them forever, please.
So he came bounding in, and scared my cat, and stared avidly at the guinea pig, and I touched him and loved him forever, or at least for a day.
And I took pictures of a black dog (Casey is a mostly-lab mix) at night. Y'all, this is Casey.
Say hello, Casey. (Hello, Casey.)
This is Casey asleep atop all the drool spots he left on the rug while we ate dinner.
This is exactly what it looks like: an artsy photo of ball of fur that I pulled out of the dog while petting him.
It's about, er, a third of the fur I ended up collecting.
I really do find that sort of thing calming.
Tomorrow evening I head to Corvallis for a thusfar-undecided period of time. I'll live with Woof for a few days, and visit Jamie at least once. Maybe after all of this, that need for dog time will finally be satiated. But Casey was a fantastic start. He's a remarkable dog—I wish you could meet him.
But really, the reason I'm writing is that they traveled with Casey, Dee's mum's dog.
I tend to do best when surrounded by multiple high-social-needs animals, because I have more pettings to give than most animals want to receive. I have to remind myself to hold back on the touch and grooming and affection, or I can overwhelm an animal's desire or even tolerance, and no one wants that. As a result, I get along damn well with pets that just want a little bit of constant love. I rarely, if ever, grow tired of giving one-handed cuddles for a few hours while I read a book or watch TV. In fact it calms me, and grooming animals satisfies my obsessive tendencies, and so if they like it too—then yay.
Casey is one of those dogs that wants nothing in the whole world more than to press against you and receive your love. (Well, he would really like the food on your plate, too.) I met him when I visited Dee in Seattle, lo these many months ago, and we got along famously. These last few weeks I've been missing dogs something fierce, because I am of the rare breed that loves cats and dogs equally, because I was supposed to see dogs two weeks ago before plans for my visit home changed, and because some dogs (especially the dogs I know) are more receptive to that endless sort of love—they just want you to touch them and love them forever, please.
So he came bounding in, and scared my cat, and stared avidly at the guinea pig, and I touched him and loved him forever, or at least for a day.
And I took pictures of a black dog (Casey is a mostly-lab mix) at night. Y'all, this is Casey.
Say hello, Casey. (Hello, Casey.)
This is Casey asleep atop all the drool spots he left on the rug while we ate dinner.
This is exactly what it looks like: an artsy photo of ball of fur that I pulled out of the dog while petting him.
It's about, er, a third of the fur I ended up collecting.
I really do find that sort of thing calming.
Tomorrow evening I head to Corvallis for a thusfar-undecided period of time. I'll live with Woof for a few days, and visit Jamie at least once. Maybe after all of this, that need for dog time will finally be satiated. But Casey was a fantastic start. He's a remarkable dog—I wish you could meet him.
