Gertie has become quite couch savvy. It’s gotten to the point where, after the last pee of the morning before work, she takes her rightful place on the south arm of the couch, and remains there for the rest of the day.
There’s only one problem with the situation: Morty had previously staked a claim to the south side of the couch.
Morty happens to be a peace-loving guy, so he didn’t fight Gertie when she did the hostile take over. Instead, he resigned himself to his fate: being forced to seek out other accommodations.
Crabby and I were discussing Gertie’s eviction of Morty from his ‘spot’ the other day. In response to my comment about how Gertie has really made herself at home, in a most defensive manner, Crabby said “Yeah, but now poor Morty has to sleep on the bed!”
The bed of which Crabby spoke: We’re not talking about a lowly blanket on the floor, or even a dog bed. The horrible place Morty must now suffer his days – is the people bed.
Remember if you will that Morty presented himself in our driveway, after living for who knows how long on the desert on his own. His reluctance to cross the threshold to our house supports the theory that even before he found himself alone, he had never been allowed inside a house. His ability to take care of himself in harsh conditions made him the most resourceful of all dogs ever taking up residence at Run A Muck Ranch. Given that history, one could come to the logical conclusion that Morty was a hardened and noble beast, able to make do with whatever accommodation were offered.
One would be wrong.
It used to be we thought, in the event of a Zombie Apocalypse, Morty, out of all the dogs, would be OK.
Now, were not so sure.
Where did we go wrong?