So it has been firmly established that I have two, moderately large dogs. One is an angel straight from All Dogs Go to Heaven and the other...can be Cujo when the mood strikes.
Cujo...er... Mimi (I might as well use her real name - no need to protect the innocent as she is and always has been as guilty as Lizzie Borden), is part Lab, part Shepherd, part obnoxious-random-hound and part neurotic schizophrenic.
But I love her. She's my dog. My Pupper Girl. She infuriates me as only my canine-self could.
So anyway, Meem has never been a jumper. She's been and done a lot of things, but she's never jumped on people. Never jumped a big puddle, never jumped a ditch.
And never jumped a fence.
Her brother, Cliff, is a digger. When he found us, we had to install electrified cattle wire along the bottom of the fence around the yard so he wouldn't pull a Hogan's Heroes on us.
Once we were sure the "message" was sent with the cattle wire - indicated by loud yelps - I proceeded to expand the utility of said wire to block off areas of the yard where I didn't want canine explorers to venture.
Mimi never jumped the wire. Cliff jumped back and forth all day long...mocking us. Meem watched him. Completely mystified. For seven years. "How does he DO that?" You could see it on her face. For SEVEN years.
Actually, she reminded me of my little sister who, in kindergarten, was feared to have a 'deficiency' because she couldn't hop. She could jump. Two feet? No problem! One foot? EEERRRGGH. (Happy ending, she turned out fine).
So two weeks ago we replaced the no-longer electrified wire with a cute little 24" picket fence and I'll be damned if Mimi - now in her twilight years - didn't look at it, take a step back, and glide over that bitch like she was National Velvet.
Then she did it again. And again. She hasn't stopped doing it for TWO WEEKS.
I can't tell if she's proud or demented.
Does she think she's a horse? Can that happen? Can dogs forget they're dogs? Do dogs get Alzheimer's?
She does eat grass...and carrots...and likes to be brushed.
Holy crap, my dog thinks she's a Shetland Pony.
Never a dull moment with this one.
When I was younger, and acted up, and my mother would put the Mom Curse on me by shaking her finger and chanting, "You'll see! Some day you'll have one just like you! And then you'll know the trouble you cause!"... I never thought The Curse would be fulfilled by a dog.
Didn't I call her "my canine self" earlier in the post? Mm-hmmm. My mother would be pleased.