Look at this face.
Awwww. It’s such a sweet face, no? Such a teddy bear. Such a lover bug. Such an idiot.
That’s Quinn. He is, on occasion, for a few brief moments at a time, in possession of A Brain Cell. What do I mean by that? He’s a bit of a dingbat, but he’s a total cuddlebug, so we forgive him. However, the times at which he is not in possession of said Brain Cell lead to some funny stories such as this short one fitting a late night post on a weekend night. (Read: I am too distracted to write anything that requires thought because there is football on the TV.)
Quinn likes to chase his tail, and when he chases his tail, because it’s running away from him as he’s running toward it, he barks.
A couple of weeks ago, Quinn was chasing his tail. Chase chase chase, bark bark bark.
“Quinn, stop that,” I said, loud enough to be heard over the barking. He stopped for a moment, looked at me, caught a glimpse of his wagging tail out of the corner of his eye, and went back at it. Chase chase chase, bark bark bark.
“Quinn! Quit!” He didn’t miss a beat. Chase chase chase, bark bark bark, chase chase chase, bark bark bark, chase bark chase bark chase bark.
By this time, the chasing and the barking was starting to gnaw on my last nerve. “QUINCY! STOP! Geez, dog.” He sped up. Chase chase chase, bark bark bark.
“Quinn, quit that or, you’re gonna make yourself sick!” I got up to physically stop him, but, still chasing his tail in a tight circle, he worked his way under the dining room table, staggering from dizziness, out of reach. Chase chase chase, bark bark bark.
I growled, he continued, until finally:
Chase chase chase, bark bark HORNK!.
Yes, my dog, who obviously that day was not in possession of A Brain Cell, chased his tail until he made himself vomit. Under the dining room table.
Of course, this is why we have two other dogs. Before I could get back from the kitchen with paper towels to clean up the mess, it was gone. Gross? Yes. But handy? Definitely.