You’ve heard a lot from FosterMom about Zee’s beauty, her love of car rides, and her fine taste in furniture. But I wanted to share one of my favorite things about our little lady: her utter incompetence as a guard dog.
Every evening when I walk in the door after a long day at work, Zee hears me fumble with the lock and lets out a staccato but somewhat hoarse woof. It’s never more than a lone syllable, but it’s loud. Next, however, she doesn’t come bounding over to the door to check me out. Instead, I hear her slowly disentangle herself from the cozy jelly bean she’s formed at Foster Mom’s feet and saunter toward the door. As she rounds the corner, coming within sight of the door, she pauses, head and ears cocked, her forehead wrinkled with curiosity.
When Zee sees it’s me, she romps over for a hearty back massage, leaning so far into me that she loses her balance and plops her butt down on the floor.
Good guard dog!