Wiener Envy

This weekend, Colin and I are dog-sitting for one of Joe and Kate's dogs. Frankie, as pictured to the left, is the 10-year-old weiner dog staying with us for Labor Day. I've actually been looking forward to this all week because Frankie is a very sweet, cuddly little dog. Plus, when she's happy, she grunts. Too cute!

I wasn't the least bit concerned about how Frankie and Didge would interact because they normally just ignore each other. OK, occasionally, Frankie will stick up for Homer (Joe and Kate's other dog, a giant black lab) and snap at Didge when he's been too rough. Clearly, there is no cause for alarm when comparing the size and force of a wiener-dog bite to the ridiculous thickness of Didge's head and neck. (Literally and figuratively.)

As expected, Frankie has largely been a little angel. She cried a little when she first got back to our place, but that's to be understood. Didge, however, has turned into the big green monster. He is insanely jealous of Frankie's presence in the apartment. In fact, just before I started this paragraph, I was leaning down to scratch Frankie's neck when Didge came running into the room. He stopped cold in his tracks with a soap-opera-worthy look of shock and betrayal. "What? My mom? With another dog??" He instantly started chewing me out for daring to show affection toward his rival.

Last night, Didge spent most of the evening pouting and pacing because Frankie was sleeping on the bed with us. It's not like Didge ever sleeps on the bed with us anyway ... it was just the mere idea that another dog would think herself worthy of being there. When Colin got up this morning, Didge jumped up and plastered himself to my legs. By this time, Frankie had already wiggled her way up so that she was nestled into my stomach. When Colin walked back in the room, he just laughed and called me "The Dog Lady."

Just in case you don't think Didge is truly jealous, I should also point out that he blocks Frankie's path whenever she gets near me. So, even if I'm calling her, Didge will wedge himself in between the two of us so that she can't reach me. Instead, I have to look over Didge into Frankie's woeful little eyes, pleading with me to help her overcome the big, furry insurmountable obstacle in her way.

If nothing else, I guess you can call this a good self-esteem day for me! :)