My brother has headed out of town for a couple of days, and the dog is not happy.
At the moment, the sweet hound is curled up and sulking in the back of his crate.
As soon as my brother moved in, Moxley became his dog. Sure, I’m good for dinner, biscuits, & dropping food on the kitchen floor, but I am definitely not the boy. I think it has something to do with the fact that I (try to) make him behave, I’m the one that is always dragging him to the vet or the groomers, and in short, I’m not nearly as much fun. :)
Surprisingly, last night he slept upstairs with me, which is very unusual for him anymore - he’s either on the couch or down with my brother - I wonder if his little doggy brain is somehow thinking that he chased off the boy cause he slept upstairs.
And being a dog, he’s got that guilt trip thing completely mastered. For the next 3 days I’ll feel bad every time I leave the house.
He’s such a good dog, I always feel bad when he’s not his super-happy self.
