He doesn’t like to get his paws wet, if the grass is wet he will hold his pee for days.
He hates squirrels… and they hate him.
Sometimes he sneaks up on to the side of the couch he’s not allowed to lay on. And when we catch him, he freezes, refusing to look at us….peering at us from the corner of his eye. Like if he doesn’t move, we wont see him.
He has a lot of doggy nightmares. People who don’t believe dogs dream, and therefore don’t have a conscience, and therefore don’t have a soul, and therefore won’t go to heaven, need to come to my house and watch him sleep.
He likes bananas.
He likes beer. (and no…we don’t give him beer, he steals it from other boaters at the sand bar)
He likes me better than he likes my husband.
He doesn’t know what “do you gotta go potty” means. After ten years of asking him the same thing every morning, he still doesn’t quite get it. He cocks his head, and looks at you like you’re talking in the same garbled language as the “Charlie Brown teacher.”
He knows what “Where’s the squirrel?” means.
He can’t catch ANYTHING in his mouth to save his life. He’s like the kid on the block that never gets chosen in the neighborhood baseball game because he can’t catch. If you throw him a treat, it usually bounces off the top of his head, he eats it AFTER it has dropped to the floor.
He likes cats.
He loved his best friend Porky. (another stray cat we had taken in)
He tolerated our Shih tzu dog “Bubba”
He probably really likes my husband better than me.
He’s the best damn dog ever.