This is of course old news. Dogs have no sense of time. Ten minutes = ten hours = ten weeks.
I’ve been feeling so bad about leaving the dogs on their own for hours each day when I go to work, and feeling doubly bad on coming home to find them throwing me a party the size of an Indian wedding. It takes me about ten minutes to calm them down and stop all the high-fiving, back flips and love songs. And after that they are so clingy I can’t even go to the loo without one of them pressing his/her nose against the door while whimpering. It’s hard to perform when a dog is whimpering with its nose pressed against the toilet door.
But today I had to dash across the street to the pharmacy which is so close it took me no more than five minutes from I left the flat till I was back. But THE SIZE OF THE PARTY WAS THE SAME.
a) I no longer feel sorry for them
b) Lucy has just farted next to me. I need to leave the room. She will, of course, follow me to apply another coat of super-glue to my leg so she can reattach herself for another few days. And fart in my face again.
Don’t get me wrong. I still love them both dearly.
