Liveblogging Raebert

Talk to the paw.

Talk to the paw.

Told you he finally ate breakfast then grumped a bit. Then he slept like Rip van Winkle for several hours.

The modem went down, so I had to go mess with it. When I got back, Raebert was gone. I found him on his bed in the bedroom. He never goes there till 8:30 at night, his preferred bedtime for everyone.

I tried to jolly him out of his mopery, but Elliott complicated everything. Actually, Elliott’s as upset as Raebert about the weekend. He’s been knocking everything off every flat surface he can find. (Who said boys are easy?) When I was talking to Raebert, Elliott thought he should, you know, spark Raebert up a bit with his paw. Raebert’s paw is bigger. He swept Elliott (his friend) completely away with one sweep of his front left leg. End of conversation.

The pic above dates from a few minutes ago when Raebert plodded from the bedroom back to the couch with Elliott in dour attendance.

But as I was writing the update, Elliott moved on to the bathroom to knock my razor off the counter, and Raebert returned to the bedroom and flung himself down there with a majestically self-pitying groan.

My wife said it best. They’re making us pay. And doing a damn good job of it too.

UPDATE: He came back from the bedroom, got on the couch, grumbled when I petted him, removed himself to his own personal love seat (deerhounds have those), and then returned to the bedroom, where he’s sulking now.

UPDATE 2: Yeah. More back and forth. But we had a talk. After which he licked my hand. Elliott teased him and he was okay with that. The clouds might be lifting. Except that Mommy is late. Because she broke her arm in Maryland. I know. Life is a total bitch, isn’t it? Why I’ll be abandoning him yet again this evening, at a time he’s not used to, to rescue Mommy from the train. Context. Who cares about Raebert’s snit? He’d better be thinking, as I am, about how to help Mommy get some sleep tonight. So there.

9 thoughts on “Liveblogging Raebert

  1. I hope he comes out of his funk soon. Our princess duck tolling retriever gets that way whenever we have her hair cut short for summer heat. It’s like we took her tiara away and she doesn’t understand why, even if she is much cooler outdoors.

    Speaking of dogs, I was wondering if anyone had some advice they could offer: what’s the best way to get a friend’s extremely unlikely dog to accept you?

      • Love the locution “unlikely.” Inspired.

        Mostly, there’s not much you can do. Bad owners.

        What you can do to protect yourself:

        Ignore the dog completely.

        Do not make eye contact.

        Do not bend over or offer your hand to sniff.

        Stand up straight and be unafraid.

        If he continues to show interest in you, turn your back on him. Still standing up straight.

        In short, be the alpha. If he subsequently approaches you, look to see that his head is down, ears back, signs of submission. Even then, don’t pet him. You can speak to him, but the message should be, “That’ll do.”

  2. Have you tried tempting him with a sturdy, chewy stick? Most dogs I’ve met can be roused from just about any lethargy with a few taunts. “This looks like a good stick, doesn’t it? Too bad it’s mine. Yep, think I’ll just wave it back and forth.”

    In any event I hope he gets back to normal form soon.

    • Thanks, Guy. But Raebert isn’t actually a dog. Check the site graphic. Very very unfortunately, he’s conscious. Waving chewy sticks won’t work. He doesn’t even want a Cheeto. What’s worked is his mommy being hurt. He got that right away. Dented his whole act. He stayed up till 11:00, which he never ever does. We’ll get through this. But the game isn’t chewy stick. It’s chess.

        • She was on a business trip in Maryland yesterday, fell and broke her arm. Spiral fracture of the humerus. It was an adventure getting her home. It was late. But she’s doing okay, considering. Thanks for asking.

          • Good grief! Sorry to hear that, but I’m glad to hear she’s doing well. Please give her my regards.

            Her experience in Maryland doesn’t sound much different than any experience I’ve ever had there. Just a bad place to be.

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