His Onliest Quirk

I am going on the record that Pappy is the most naturally agreeable mutt on earth. Take food out of his mouth and he wags his tail. Put him outside, and he will wait quietly until you let him in. A dog can be barking like a berserker at him, and he is just sorting out how to play. The vet implanted a chip in him without a whimper. He's the very definition of imperturbable (perhaps oblivious?).

This affability led me to suspect that his first year of life prior to adoption was spent in some doggy utopia, and our household was inevitably disappointing by comparison. But recently we had our first glimpse of the dark side of that Eden (cue ominous music).

We had a giant black fly in the house following one of Pappy's entries and exits outside. I started waving around the Weekend supplement from the newspaper to knock it down. Pappy went all schizo, and started cowering in the next room with his ears and tail down. My wife accidentally re-enacted the event that evening when she thought Papster was in another room. It breaks our hearts.

It would seem that he's no fan of rolled-up newspapers from past experience. We're going to have to get a fly-swatter and hope for the best.