In case you can't quite discern what this object is, allow me. It's a baby bootie that has been shredded by small doggie teeth. Hmm. Somehow symbolistic of her feelings in the matter? I'm not sure. But here's the really weird thing. I make these little booties, and I keep them on a shelf that is five feet off the ground. Miley is roughly twelve inches tall when on all fours and maybe just short of twenty inches when she does her dancing trick. This is actually really hard to measure because as soon as anything resembling a stick comes out, that dog is history out the doggie door. Sticks, especially long ones, are the most frightening thing in the world, just in case you weren't aware of this fact. She is also afraid of any large object, but sticks are apparently the spawn of Satan. I did, however, manage to get those rough measurements for you. Now where was I headed with this? . . . rereading . . . Oh yes, um, so the booties that are five feet off the ground. Miley is a really good jumper. She jumps up on a bed that is three feet off the ground with ease and grace, with an occasional hand up. It's particularly amusing to watch her try and fail, her little head popping up just over the side of the bed over and over. But it seems that this three foot jump is a pretty good stretch for her. So how, may I ask, did she get this little bootie off a shelf five feet up? And why? How she got it completely eludes me. Now ask me why. I have the answer to that one.
See this little freak, excuse me, I meant, darling puppy, came with this very odd obsession. She loves feet and anything associated with them. Sure, you're thinking, she likes shoes like any self respecting puppy does. No, I'm sorry, it most definitely goes far beyond that. I noticed soon after I got her that she would cuddle up to my feet whenever they stopped moving. Not only that, she suddenly becomes a little kitten, rubbing her head across the top of your foot, hmm, or bottom of your foot, it makes no difference to her. If I'm wearing flip flops, she will wiggle her little nose between the foot and the flip flop and happily snooze there. I'm pretty sure she thinks that feet are magical entities. (See here my blog entry think twice. It will take on new meaning for you now.) In fact, as I write this entry, she is sitting under my foot with what I am pretty sure is an I'm-in-heaven expression as I just swing my foot back and forth. It's kind of convenient actually. I can do all kinds of things while still giving Miley attention. So nicely low maintenance. Not only are feet her happy delight in life, but she also joyfully engages in playful romps with socks, something like you would see a kitten doing with say, a ball of yarn. She can sniff out a sock in a ten mile radius. Okay, okay, anywhere in the house. We can think we have safely removed all socks from her roving nose, and suddenly there she will be shamefully displaying the sock that she has stolen. She looks pitifully horrified at her own behavior. It's as if she is saying, "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help it. See, I found this delicious sock snack. I simply couldn't walk away from it. You can yell at me now." What I find amazing is that it is repeatedly socks. Occasionally she comes up with the snotty tissue or some other disgusting object from the bathroom garbage, which I shan't identify, but mostly she just forages for socks. If only we could teach her to pan for gold or silver or something valuable. But don't you think that a baby bootie is a little bit amazing? It's a kind of sock, yes, but really? Here's the most amazing one, however. When my grandbaby was here, there was a little package of baby socks in her luggage. A package, in plastic, packaged up and sealed, not even in the open air. I'll be a monkey's uncle if she didn't sniff it out and bring it to me with that I've-done-a-way-bad-thing-again expression. Perhaps I have a genius dog on my hands. She can even find socks in packages that have never been on feet! I don't know if I should praise her for her ingenuity or yell at her and put handcuffs on all four paws and arrest her for aggravated sock theft.
And you thought she snatched the bootie because she didn't like my sweet grandbaby! Piffle!
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