Life With Arlo: Sneaky Dog Edition

I have two very bad dogs and Arlo is the badder of the two. He's friendlier, sure, but he's also a much bigger handful.

Regular (typically one-sided) conversations that I have with Arlo:

• "No."

• "Drop it."

• "Get down."

• "Stop that."

• "Do not jump on me."

• "Don't even think about it."

I am relatively certain that Arlo was a giraffe in a past life. He aspires to be tall -- much, much taller than he actually is. When Arlo wants something from the counter, he simply stands on his hind legs and attempts to reach it. When Arlo wishes to be let in or out, he again stands on his hind legs and pounds his front feet against the door.

For the most part, I keep everything in my kitchen pushed against the back counter... out of Arlo's reach. I also avoid wearing nice clothes when it's raining since I know his muddy footprints will end up on my outfit. Arlo is a lot of work; his personality is ginormous and it's not for everyone. Admittedly, it's sometimes not for me.

My kitten Harvey is a perfect creature. He gets in the shower with me sometimes, he sleeps with me every night, he travels in a cat carrier to visit his grandparents whenever I hang out with my mom and dad, and he can hold his own against the dogs, and he fetches. This last thing is a lot of fun; Harvey's the first cat I've ever had who will chase something and bring it back for me to throw again.

Today, his obsession has been a Sharpie. Just enjoys carrying it around in his mouth and dropping it onto the floor from high vantage points... like the kitchen table. The problem with this? Arlo snatches up the Sharpie and claims it as his own. What then ensues is me walking behind him through the house, and him scurrying away from me with his head ducked (because he believes that in ducking his head, he then becomes invisible). Just a little while ago, we took three trips around the couch, one around the kitchen table, and ended up at the back door, where he turned his back to me and hung his head so low that his nose nearly touched the floor. Miraculously, I was still able to see him, which enabled me to swipe the Sharpie from his mouth and put it back where it belongs.

Arlo is resting now, which is always an appreciated reprieve. And later he will probably snuggle with me on the couch, curling behind my legs and hanging his head over my knees, and I will forgive him (just as I do every night) for all his mischievous behavior throughout the day. He's a good boy, for the most part, and even though I sometimes threaten to put him out with the trash, I wouldn't sell him for all the money in the world.