Benson doesn't need those talking buttons. He makes his needs very clear.
After our post-work walk, which was supposed to be 10 min but *someone* dragged it to 45, Benson stomped into the kitchen, grabbed his food bowl (and then ripped out the slow feeder), and dropped it in front of me.
Message received, good buddy.
He got fed.
Cont.
I was asking a dad and his daughter if they had passed a grey pitbull. They were telling me no when I looked across the street and there was Benson, crossing the street toward me in the middle of rush hour Rockridge drop off traffic!
Me: Benson! Cross cross Benson! Cross cross! (This is what I say to him when we cross the street.)
He ran up to me his fur a little puffy, a sign that he was a little freaked out.
I immediately connected his leash and we walked. I castigated myself the whole time. I knew the biggest risk of letting Benson off leash in the building was the garage gate opening. He loves the garage gate. He's fascinated with it. Of *course* I should have anticipated someone leaving. Of course I should have kept him with me for the trash detour then let him run to the front gate when everything was secure. And on and on.
Benson of course seemed to enjoy his walk about but also seems very happy to be back inside, fed and safe, on the couch.
Learning is continuous.
2/2
#BensonUpdate
Today was an adventure.
I had a bag of weekend trash to take down so I let Benson run down to the front gate by himself while I took a quick detour to the trash bin.
Benson's jingling collar tags told me where he was by the front gate and I smiled at his excitement.
I was halfway down the back stairs when I heard someone start their car and open the garage gate. Oh shit. I heard Benson's jingle run to the garage. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
And then I didn't hear his jingle. Fuck!
I threw the trash into the bin, ran through the now closed garage (no Benson) to the front gate. No Benson.
In the front of the apartment, up and down the block. No Benson.
Fuuuuuck.
1/
My new gloves for walking Benson: xsmall work gloves.
I love them! While the red Italian leather gloves were chic, Benson soon made quick work of them because of him literally nipping the fingers giving him treats.
These still protect my hands from the leash, help my grip, are flexible, and are essential with the 💩 pickup. Also more cost effective.
They also make me feel I can throw a hammer at someone if necessary.
So i guess i'm spending the rest of the day on the stairs until his nap is over.
Every year my sweet schmoopie boi gets a little bit slower.
He wants to go hard and then he hits his pittie capacity wall and goes, I lay here's now.
#BensonUpdate
#SeniorDogsOfMastodon
#DogsOfMastodon
#BrunchedTooHard
Whatever giant gremlin inhabited Benson after his sponge down can kiss my ass.
He went from docile stinky schmoopie to food foraging menace who almost knocked a mug of coffee onto my laptop.
I heard the chaos from the other room and found him slurping up the remaining dregs of my heavily creamed coffee on the floor. Is incidental caffeine bad for dogs?
He later refused to go for a walk (once again turning around in his harness as soon as the front door shut behind us.) He sat in protest until we went back inside and I fed him.
He's snoring now.
Asshole.
Gave Benson a sponge bath in the kitchen while I was in a slack huddle with my team.
I went to clean his butt and he instantly clenched, sat down, and then went on a giant zoomie, making the bar cart rattle, running into the plants, and making the dishes cupboard shake like an earthquake.
He makes me laugh so much.
Benson loves being a clean boi but he does not like having his butt touched!
Benson and I have had a quiet day.
I like giving him quiet time so he can decompress and relax.
We spent the warm afternoon in various states of napping. He was in a square of sunshine, then it was my turn, then we shared some potato chips, then we dozed off while watching Scarpetta (it was meh and I don't like that character) then I fed him, then he sat on my foot while I practiced some Italian.
And now he just lumbered up and curled up on his bed.
I'm about to watch Jurassic Park.
The highlight of this morning's transport:
Benson taking advantage of the treats hole in his muzzle and tugging on my seatbelt from the rear compartment of the Subaru.
Have you ever been in a chokehold by an excited pittie?
Sigh.
Time for a new muzzle.
Diligence Jones