I’m not really a fan of surprises. Unless someone shows up at my door with dinner šŸ™‚

My dog is not a fan of surprises either. Offer one up, and he will respond with some rather alarming and sometimes hilarious displays of either fight, flight or freeze.

I was home on Malaview. I had stayed a few nights, so my being around was not new. After breakfast, Mom and I were in the living room, talking. Twinkie was outside exploring, but Ruby got up to let him inside after he had completed his morning rounds.

“Sit. Stay. Okay!” Twink shoots through the door, skids across the hardwood Skooby-Doo style, scrabbles across the carpet, pounces on his ball, slams into Mom’s legs, glances up to say hello and then scrabbles back around, slides out into the kitchen and begins inspecting the floor for crumbs. Throughout this performance he is oblivious to the raised eyebrows, rolling eyes, smiles and laughter of the audience.

“Where’s Sami, Twink? Where’s Sam?” Mom asks him, as he returns to the living room. Sam? Sam who? Still with his ball in his mouth, he trots over to Mom and wiggles enthusiastically. Nothing; Mom just smiles.

He wanders over to Rube and tries again. No response. She ignores him. He has no idea I am sitting on the couch across from the living room fireplace. He pads back towards Mom, still carrying his ball. Halfway there, he pauses and looks around, and sees…me!

He freezes mid-scan. His eyes bug out of his head, ears prick forward and his jaw drops. People tend to humanize their dogs a lot. But the human characteristics of this show of surprise was just perfect. The ball falls from his mouth, and he stares at me, “Oh my GOD! You’re here!”

“There she is,” says Mom, laughing.

“Hi bud,” I say, smiling. Ball forgotten, he walks to me, says hello and leans against my leg for a chest rub, settling at my feet for a few minutes before he is off on patrol once more.


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