I walked out of the den this morning to see the dog laying on his back curled up next to Cooper. It is an obvious (and good) sign that he sees Cooper as dominant. Dobie knows his place in this household.
We took a nap earlier. It took much positioning, repositioning, re-repositioning, and re-re-repositioning before Cooper was comfortable. Of course the position he finally chose involved having his head placed firmly up my armpit, with two of his fingers securely situated in my nostrils. It took so long to get him settled that I was not about to move. It's kind of like when you go to move the television antennae and you find out that your movement affects the reception. You eventually wind up in some pretzel-like position out of a game of Twister just so you can watch the show.
When we got up I let out a fairly loud fart. Cooper laughed and clapped for me, which I found a bit funny since I'm not usually accustomed to that kind of a response to my "work". Yes, I am an artist, but I don't generally require applause.
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