Favourite Chair.

There is a theme in the apartment we are staying in. I would like to think it is because the views are amazing but more likely it is because the three white dogs are nosey parkers. You see we have a ‘favourite chair’. It is by the window and comfortably sits one – one not three. This in its self has been an interesting learning curve.

You see the little white dogs sometimes do not get spacial awareness and can sometimes forget their manners and sharing rules. This ultimately means all three bound up to the chair in a desperate race to be the proud owner of it, only to collide with each other and ending up in an uncomfortable pile of legs and paws – with the occasional butt on face scenario – extremely entertaining to watch but not much fun for them.

The next tactic is to bully one another, to claim the chair; space, boundary as their own. For this activity they will bear teeth, snarl and patrol the chair . This is when we intervene and time out concludes. However, the three warriors are intelligent little things and learn quickly.

Thus we are on stage three. The sharing and taking turns stage. They have tried multiple combinations and have cleverly figured out that the chair will comfortably seat one of them and if used wisely – two of them but not three. Three is too much of a squeeze. So they take turns, as one gets down, another gets up. This in its self is very cute and intriguing to watch – they seem to know who’s turn it is and how long each turn should last but should somone stay to long or get ideas of grandure to hog the chair anarchy begins again.

There is other factors too that we have come against with the chair, such as should a people sit in it or god forbid they jump into the seats warm embrace on a night time, when darkness ensues and visibility is naught. These offenses are far greater than the bickering of the three White dogs and calls for extreme measures – the huff. Not one dog huffing in one corner – no – three dogs, huffing separately, in three corners. They wear the hurt, distrust and pain of the betray on their faces, plain to see – and some daft people say dogs are not sentient beings…

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