Winston and I spent every day together for 6 months. We ate together. We walked together. We slept…ok we didn’t sleep together. I draw the line people.
The point is that we spent nearly every moment together for 6 months, the last month he followed me around as if he might catch the baby in his mouth if I suddenly delivered.
You’d think that so much quality time would have bonded dog and girl. You’d think that he would love me. You’d think that he would mourn me every night while howling at the moon. “DEAR GOD” he would said, “bring her back to me! I will do anything!”
This weekend, when we saw Winston he didn’t even so much as give me a good crotch sniff. Nope. Nothing. If I went upstairs he wouldn’t whine or whimper. Nope. He would wait for Andrew and then go upstairs.
The only time he paid attention to me was if, while taking care of Clare, she would begin to cry. He would look at me like, “Silence that rodent will you?”
Clare was scared to death of him which kind of frustrates me. I don’t want her to be afraid of anything. By the end of the weekend she was a lot better with him but not much.
In conclusion I’ve decided that dog is only man’s best friend. At least girl is not dog’s best friend that’s for sure.