ksmith | The language of dogs

So, Gaby is home.

I was looking forward to bringing her home, but I was concerned that she and King would start roaring around and that she would hurt herself. She's healing well, but she is on Rimadyl for the next couple of days, and must still be a little sore. But she's a willful little beast and King missed her and I didn't know what might happen.

So I pull into the driveway. King spots Gaby through the car window, and starts whining and barking. Gaby whines a little. I go and get the nice extendable ramp so that she doesn't have to jump down out of the car. She whimpers a little, then ignores said ramp and jumps out of the car. Walks to the fence where King is waiting anxiously, and...growls at him.

I have never heard Gaby growl at King in the two months she's been here. She makes a grumbling sound when she chitters his face, but this was different. She growled. Taken aback, I opened the gate, talking all the while, and walked her in. King bounced up to her, and she still growled. She let him sniff her, but there a definite overtone of 'watch it.' A stiffness.

Thoughts of anesthesia-induced amnesia ran through my head. Did she remember him? Did her post-op hormone levels plunge to the point that she did not want him near her?

Since coming indoors, she has chittered his face a few times, and sniffed his face. But King is keeping his distance. He's sleeping now. Gaby is chewing on a bone. Ok, he just got up to scratch, and she hurried over to sniff his face. Things are relaxing a little.

I'll know more tomorrow, but the only thing I can figure is that she issued him the doggy version of 'Not tonight, dear. I have a headache." And King backed off and is, so far, staying backed off.