Every once in a while I have one of those days that is so blindingly busy -- you know, that vaudevillian sense of all the plates on all the sticks wobbling and you'll never get them all going again without something crashing to the floor -- that I almost lose my sense of time and place. These are the times I pay the least attention to the dogs, but the times when I most appreciate them. They don't have days like that. For them, it's just another boring day, watching me type and stare at a screen with squiggles on it. And every once in a while the dogs decide to do something about it.
Baxter's style is the big paw on the lap and the earnest look, straight into my eyes, that says "It's time for you to step away from the infernal glowing squiggle machine now."
Kirby usually takes a more verbal approach. Sometimes he'll put his paws on my leg, but usually he'll just sit, staring intensely at me, and start making little growly noises that almost sound like words. Humpf. Humpfrrr. Humpfrrowrow.
It must be time for dinner...
