I've named this dog "Baron" since he is a noble creature with noble aspirations (namely, to have someone scoop up his poop for him every day). I'm pretty sure he has no clue that is his name. Right now he mainly responds to "get the hell over here, dog!" (or the equally frequent "get the hell off that, dog!")
I've never had a dog before so I don't really know how he compares, but he seems to be quite a character. All attentive and obedient one second and completely oblivious the next. I have done a scientific analysis of this and constructed a state-machine modeling Baron's behavior:
Food in hand? | Possum in yard? | Persona |
---|---|---|
No | No | Determined forager |
No | Yes | Evil homewrecker |
Yes | No | Angel sent from heaven |
Yes | Yes | Hyperactive schizophrenic |
He likes to follow me around everywhere. I must say this is pretty endearing, albeit somewhat disconcerting when I find him outside the bathroom door after doing my business. It's like I have my own stalker. That's another first (I think... some of these BYOND fanboys are a little sketchy).
Despite the fact that Baron has chewed up everything in the house (with the exception of his chew toys), I must say that I am enjoying his presence immensely. He is an endless source of entertainment and has me constantly pondering new things. For example, after he ate a piece of poop during our morning walk, I thought about how wonderfully recursive an "all poop" diet would be. It's the secret to perpetual motion, I tell you! I can't wait to use this story during my Nobel Prize acceptance speech.

I hope that stuffed dog enjoyed his 2.1 seconds of life, may he rest in peace
Tonight I learned that the dog doesn't like David Lee Roth, of Van Halen fame. This is news to me-- I thought all dogs liked Van Halen. But judge for yourselves: I was listening to the "Arena Rock" station on our TV with the thousand channels and David Lee Roth came on and started rocking his stuff. Baron, who was peacefully chewing my sock, immediately perked up and started this low growl that he usually reserves for cats. I looked outside for a cat, but none was in the vicinity (they are getting wise to our property boundaries). So I said, "What's the deal, dog?" And he said, "This sucks. Change it." So I switched to "80s Rock Ballads" and we enjoyed some Meatloaf together.
I'll make another post after Baron takes down his first wall (awwww, how cute!) We live in a house made of glass; it's only a matter of time!
Cats, on the other hand, know everything about the world, or so they would lead you to believe.
/me goes to feed his
slave driverscats