My Best Friend speaks another language

I bought little princess a dog translator for Christmas. You are supposed to place the translator on the collar and when the dog barks it will be translated into English on the handheld receiver. Now little princess is more of a cat person but I think she’ll get a kick out of it. We occasionally shut off the TV and make up what we think the pets are saying to us and each other. Its way more entertaining than anything on TV.

My dog Davey could use some prozac or at the very least counseling. My husband says that if I’m not home Davey runs to the window every time a car goes by. As soon as I come home he’s like a small child excited that mommy has come back for him. He follows me around with his nose glued to my butt cheek.

From room to room we go, together. If I try to close him out of the bathroom he puts his nose to the crack at the bottom of the door and huffs. I usually just let him in and treat him like my shadow. I do draw the line at showering together. But his concession is that he checks behind the curtain several times to make sure I didn’t escape him via a hidden trap door in the shower. He does respect my modesty. If I am naked, he won’t look. He’ll turn his back or if that’s not possible he’ll keep his head down and eyes down cast.

At least I hope it’s that and not that he’s grossed out by seeing me naked.