Chloe immediately thought I was down on the floor because I wanted to play, so she plopped right down in front of me and started pawing at me.
"It's not time to play right now Miss Chloe. It's time to research," I informed her as I unsnapped her collar and put it around my neck. Of course right after snapping the collar into place and taking my first few glances around the bedroom is when Brent meandered into the room and stopped short when he saw me.
"You. Are. A. Freak," he said, shaking his head and immediately heading back out the door while calling over his shoulder, "If this is for your blog I don't even want to know."
Ok, ok. Maybe this is really weird, but I don't care. It's interesting, and I love to experiment.
"Good. Now we can do this in peace," I say to Chloe with a quick pat on her head. After marveling at just how much black dog hair I choose to ignore on the beige carpet fibers, I realize that having a collar with metal tags that jingle around my neck with every step right near my ears is extremely annoying. I like it on Chloe because I can always tell where she is, and I can only hope she's used to it by now and doesn't resent me for making her wear it.
First stop? Chloe's dog bed, which I have wedged in a corner facing two floor-to-ceiling windows next to both of my dressers. I actually find it quite peaceful lying there looking out past the leaves of a tree to a busy street with whizzing cars. Lying on dog beds - although a bit smelly, I notice - is not too bad. After all, my 3 1/2-year-old niece Kenzie seems to enjoy it.
Next stop? The bathroom next to the toilet, which has been Chloe's favorite place in every place she's lived with us. I always make sure that the trash can is on one side and the other is clear so she has a place to lie. The dog bed is much more comfortable, but it's cooler next to the toilet, which smells like, well, a toilet. I guess I shouldn't read too much into the fact that she likes to curl up amid stenches, as dogs are fascinated with other dogs butts and poop after all.
After a minute in the bathroom, I head out on all fours into the living room. Geez my neck is getting sore, I think as I realize that I've mostly been looking up because everything near the floor is bland and boring. The carpet is tan, the walls are tan, and all the pictures and color are at human eye level, not a dog's.
Note to self: Put a picture of a dog or a bone or something right above the lower moulding, I think, ignoring the fact that Chloe would never notice. And is that really what the back of my couch looks like? Huh. I never noticed that wide pattern it's so much lower than I'm used to looking.
I end my not-so-scientific-and-strange experiment crawling under the daybed in the den, which is where Chloe goes when she's scared. I can see why, as it's quieter under there and there's a sense of security with the close proximity of the bottom of the daybed. Plus you can see just enough to know what's going on by peeking out under the bed.
"Although I would love the sleeping-all-day-and-getting-petted-all-evening concept, I just can't deal with this jingling collar and monochromatic stinky environment," I tell Chloe after straightening up and concluding my experiment. "I think I'll leave being the pup to you. Come here and let me rub your belly."
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