Tom's sister is away for the week. She left town last Saturday. And, since she is sort of "the designated person" to see to the needs of her (their) parents, it shifts to us when she is gone.
We received an email from Christina last Friday, letting us know how long she would be gone and that (1) Tom's dad was craving Mexican food (Taco Bell), but didn't want to call and ask Tom to take him to TB or pick up the food and take it over to their place; and (2) Tom's dad has been itching to go to Tunica to gamble his $20, but won't call to ask Tom to take him.
Saturday morning when we got back from the Farmer's Market, Tom called his parents to propose a choice for Sunday dinner: Tom would go get them the Taco Bell food of their choice and deliver it to their place or Tom would pick them up (they no longer drive) and they could come to our house for dinner. Ultimately they chose dinner at our house even though we weren't having Mexican food.
We have been working hard at training Poop Dogg to inhabit the room where we are, rather than hiding/sleeping in the living room behind the coffee table. So every time we go into a different room, we call her. She doesn't like it one bit, so every time we turn our backs, she dives back into the living behind the coffee table. Then we have to call her back out and tell her "stay!" and hope it sticks. It's a never ending battle.
Sunday while we were preparing and serving dinner, we called her into the dining room. She doesn't sit next to your chair. She doesn't demand attention. She doesn't beg. At first, she will sit quietly, but with her eyes constantly darting towards the doorway to the living room, plotting her eventual departure. But, finally, after a couple of thwarted attempts at escape, she will just lay down and fall asleep, the activity for which she possesses the utmost talent. Sunday afternoon she did just that, laying down next to my mother-in-law's chair with her head resting on the bottom rung of the chair and quickly falling asleep.
We do our best to engage her, but she's resistant and seems to resent our efforts to interact with us. She just sleeps. And she's perfectly comfortable sleeping her entire life away. Of course, that is what bugs me. I wanted a companion dog. I wanted a friendly dog. I wanted a dog that's happy to see me when I get home. Nope. That's not her. So I bug her, sometimes mercilessly, moving from chair to chair or room to room, calling her, waking her up, making her move.
As she laid there on the dining room floor, sound asleep, I just couldn't help myself. When I stood up from the table, she opened her eyes because she heard me move from my chair to get my camera...
I just know she's thinking, WHUUUUUTTT???
Don't think I'm just being mean. I'm really doing her a favor. It's the only exercise she gets. And I get a good giggle out of it every time.