Who would've thought my dog would undermine my efforts to get in shape.
Every night my husband tosses Pettigrew his rawhide nightcap. They have widely different opinions about what happens next.
Pettigrew (our dog) believes he has been subjected to grossly unfair treatment. He has taken steps to address the problems, including a post to refute the erroneous information that previously appeared regarding barking.
Pettigrew is an indiscriminate barker. I've long since stopped checking to see what set him off.
As Garth Brooks's memorably sang, "Sometimes I thank God, for unanswered prayers." We went to the shelter to adopt Shadow, but Pettigrew is the dog who came home with us. We got lucky.
Counting my blessings: things are much easier now that Pettigrew is healthy again. Sometimes it takes a disruption to appreciate what you have.
When I say, "Grandmom and Pop Pop are here," Pettigrew charges the back door. If only I could claim credit for training him to do this! But Pettigrew knows that phrase means a guaranteed dog treat and the chance to lick Grandmom's tasty hands.
Walking Pettigrew is like dancing with a partner when you both want to lead.
A perfect storm is brewing to thwart my efforts to restore Pettigrew's stomach: Pettigrew's belief that he in entitled to people food paired with my husband's eagerness to see a cure when Pettigrew is merely having a good day.
Pettigrew is not a fan of NFL Sundays among other things.