My poor dog does not like children. Specifically, she doesn't like the children that happen to be my niece and nephew. I don't suppose that should be too surprising: she's a 9ish year old dog who has had to share the house with only my mom and dad for the past three years. She has a room to herself, and her room is actually the biggest room in the house (we used to call it the Rec room. Now, it's "Sheena's room"). She doesn't play with her chew toys anymore, and can't be bothered to go fetch a dirty stick that you just threw ten feet out of her way. When we come home from Hamilton and GrandRapids and such, she is generally excited, because there are more people to take her for walks and to pet her and scratch her belly while she lazes apathetically on the floor.
When the grandkids come over, it's a different story altogether. First of all, these mini people have the audacity to steal any and all attention away from her. Second, they take over her floor, and there are toys strewn everywhere, in her cage, in her spot behind the chair in the livingroom, on beds that she used to be able to sleep on! Third, and probably the worst, these little people have the idea that they must annoy her to the best of their ability. In fact, they probably make it their goal to do so each day. Reuben got a new fire truck for Christmas from "Unca Dave", and he thought it would be pretty fun to let Sheena play with it as well. Growling comes from the next room over, and when Auntie Jenn goes to see what's happening, she sees Reuben standing on Sheena's tail, driving a fire truck over the poor dog. "Sheena like it? Sheena like the fire truck? It's Reunen's!" Sheena leaves Reuben in that room, only to encounter seven month old Nadine in the next room. How nice and pretty the puppy looks! Soon there are little hands grabbing onto the floppy ears of my poor dog and pulling. Sheena is freed from the grasp and escapes downstairs.
Yesterday, Grandma and Aunt Marya and Uncle Eric and Auntie Jenn and Reuben and Sheena went to the "big hill" to tobaggan with crazy carpets. Despite my best efforts to get the dog onto a crazy carpet, she wouldn't come down with me, but every time someone went down the hill, we'd let go of Sheena's leash and she'd pick up the handle in her mouth and chase us down the hill. After Aunt Marya and Reuben went down the hill together and Sheena chased them down, Aunt Marya picked up the crazy carpet and the leash and put Reuben's hand in the leash to walk the dog up the hill.
This must have been a moment of complete and utter humiliation for that dog. You could almost read her thoughts as she tried to grab the handle away from the two and a half year old. "You think that I'm actually going to let that little thing walk me back up the hill?! He's smaller than I am! I can do it very well on my own, thank you very much!" They played tug-of-war for a few seconds, Sheena grabbing a little closer to the handle every time, until, with a final yank, the leash was freed and Reuben was on his bottom. Sheena picked up the handle in her mouth and trotted up the hill, sat next to me and laid the handle down gently in my lap. I couldn't breath, I was laughing so hard. What a dog. I think she'll be pleased when she's got the house to herself again next week.