From The "I Should Have Named Her Mom" files...

I just could not figure out what Buddy thought she needed. She'd had dinner. She'd already been out, multiple times. She had, in fact, just come back in.

She didn't appear to be in physical distress, although she did appear frustrated that I didn't understand what she was trying to tell me. 

It's not as if I had any food I was eating, that she wanted me to share, because I, too, had finished dinner and I had no snacks on my desk.

Except, I finally realized, I hadn't finished my dinner. I had set aside the last few bites and I had forgotten about them.

Buddy, of course, knew and was quite insistent that my dinner be finished.

Like a mom.

Granted, unlike a mom, her preference was that I give her my dinner to finish (although, my finishing it myself would also have satisfied her). So, I took a couple more bites of it, and gave her the last couple of bites.

Dinner finally finished. Buddy satisfied.


(Written 12-13-2011)

~~~

Last night, we ended up not taking our daily walk before dark. I really wasn't feeling up to taking a walk, at all, and especially not in the cold and snowy dark. But, I was determined that we'd at least take a short walk.

However, after one round (literally, around our teeny tiny neighborhood). Buddy took me home.

I thought she'd at least want to go another round, that she was just temporarily following a scent, but, no, she took me right to the door and stood to the side so I could open it for her.

Like a mom.

Well, maybe not, but it was sweet and thoughtful. Unusual, too. Buddy loves her walks. They are her favorite part of the day and she looks forward to them each day.

Good thing, too. I wasn't exaggerating when I said I didn't feel well. I spent the rest of the evening collapsed on the loveseat. Buddy and The Cat took turns keeping me company.


(Written 12-13-2011)

~~~

If I have something on the stove, and I don't check it for a while, Buddy will remind me to check it.

Like a mom.

She did that with broth, the last time I made it.

She got my attention. I went to the kitchen, and stirred the broth.

She was satisfied that I hadn't forgotten it.

She does that if I go sit down for too long while her dinner is on the stove, too.


She's such a good girl.


A good, smart, girl who prefers that I don't burn the food.


(Written 11-28-2011)