When I get home from work, 90% of the time it's just my four-legged friends and me. We kick back, relax, watch some reality and/or crime TV and eat countless double stuffed Oreos (ok, this part is just me). Oftentimes I use this canine quality time to just sit and look at the dogs and try to figure them out.
Roney and I are cut from the same cloth. Fairly relaxed, sometimes irritable when bothered, mild-natured and somewhat people-pleasing. I understand him, he understands me. He's a gentle giant, a sensitive little fellow. I also think he gets chronic headaches like me, but this is mere speculation.
Henry is wild and defiant but somehow needy and adoring. His temperament is so hot and cold that it's no wonder he's anxiety-ridden. He's entirely dependant on affection but will throw it in your face when he's in a fit.
I like to think about the dogs as literary characters (note: for those who continue to read further, I fear this is the point at which I may lose friends). I think if Ronin were human, he would be Joe Gargery, of Great Expectations, one of my all time favorites. He's noble and strong but unafraid to show his emotions. His character in the book plays a do-good doting fatherly role to the childish Pip (read: Henry). If Henry were human, he would be Pearl, of The Scarlet Letter. After the first 6 months of bringing him home I would have changed his name to Pearl had he been a lady pup. He's an elfish little dog; a rule-breaker, a baffling mixture of strong emotions with a capacity for evil.
Ironically, I'm analyzing my dogs as complex characters while they're likely at home fantasizing about Bil Jac treats and escaping their leashes.
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