I’ve said before that I was a little nervous in adopting a dog. I was used to cats, I knew how they behaved and could expect it. Dogs were just such…dogs. They run around and crash into things like big oafs (well, if you have a big dog, and – to me – any dog smaller than my cats isn’t really a dog), they slobber, they chew and dig, etc.
So when we adopted Cosmo, I wanted rules in place for his behavior. We set up a baby gate at the foot of the stairs, giving the cats a safe place to avoid the dog, and also because I didn’t want him coming upstairs and chewing up the girls’ toys.
And I also declared he wasn’t going to be on the furniture. Ha. He made it clear from day one that he intended to join us on the couch. So we came up with a plan to keep a blanket on one corner of the couch, and teach him that he was allowed up, but only on his blanket.
How’s that going, you ask?
Yep, total pushover. But it’s not entirely my fault. Cosmo has charmed his way into every privilege. Any visitor to our house will tell you what an awesome dog he is, and how he’s a dog who could change haters into lovers. He’s gentle with the kids, playful, protective, and wants only to be loved. Well, maybe some treats, too, if you’ve got any.
I’m holding firm on the no upstairs rule, though. Mainly because I’ve slept downstairs on the sofa bed once, and I can attest that the dog is a bed hog. At 85+ pounds, he’s not so easy to move, either.
Never did I predict that I would love this goofy puppy face so much.
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