From the moment I first got Izzy, I knew that she was a very special dog. Yes, I mean special in the fact that she is adorable and very loving and a total sweetheart, but I also mean special in the, “Why does she think what she’s doing right now makes any kind of sense?” Kind of way. When we adopted her at the pound, she was full of energy and super excited to meet all of us. We had been waiting on another dog to be cleared for adoption but after meeting Izzy we knew that there was no way we could say No to her, so we brought her home and the adventure began. Now, Seven years later, I’ve started to notice her tricks and habits and I’ve started to notice that none of them make any sort of sense, so this week I’d like to present to you:

Things Izzy does that confuse me.

One: Acts Hungry. Gets excited at prospect of food. Gets food. Stares at it and does not eat.

I really don’t get it. When people look at Izzy, they think that she is malnourished or that we don’t feed her, but that is just not true. We have tried to feed her but she is just so picky. Or maybe she is under the assumption that food gets better the longer it sits in one spot? I know that often times, animals will not eat if their master is not home as they think that it may be the very last time they are fed and thus they try to ration. Yet, even if I sit right beside her, she still will not eat for a good ten minutes. Then, the excitement of getting the food must wear thin and in her boredom she decides that the only thing to make life worth living again, is to eat. Dear Izzy, please eat. The neighbors think we starve you. Love, Dad.

Two: Obsession with bread.

Is bread really so tasty? Whenever I pull bread out of the refrigerator, it as if I am pulling drugs out for an addict who has been denied their habitual need. Izzy lurches into a frenzy of crazed running back and forth and scratching at the floor. When I finally give her some bread, she takes it and runs away to what she deems to be a secret spot, aka, the middle of the floor in another room, to eat it. She then runs back for more. This obsession is not just bread loaves. It also extends to pizza crust. I actually can’t remember the last time I ate the crust on my pizza as Izzy will literally sit in my lap as I eat a slice and wait for the crust to be handed to her, at which time she can run back to the aforementioned secret eating place.

Three: Wants to play ball. Won’t hand over ball.

“Does she want me to throw the ball?” Asked Carl as Izzy obnoxiously scooted her butt into his lap with a green ball in her mouth.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then why doesn’t she give it to me?” He asked.

The thing about Izzy is that the ‘need’ for something and the ‘action’ which she must take to get there, very rarely link up in her brain. It is as if that neurological pathway was permanently severed at some point in her life.

She will stare at you and whine and run all around with the ball in her mouth, but the second you try to take it from her, so that you can actually throw it, she acts as if she is Golem and you are stealing the precious. This usually results in a wrestling match where I fight the ball away and throw it, just to repeat the entire cycle. Needless to say, Fetch, in our house, is a sport requiring a large quantity of patience.

Four: Ignores ugly people. Violently pulls and wants to jump on attractive people.

This one is truly unique. When I was very young, I imagined I’d go on grand adventures with my dog and we would solve unique problems together and overcome monsters in order to reach a magical destination. Instead, I somehow managed to get a dog who responds to the attractiveness level of human beings. Without fail, if someone is walking by her on the street and they are what you would consider, less than flattering, Izzy will not even lift her head to acknowledge them. Yet if it is someone worth looking at, she will jump at them and sniff at them and generally make a grand scene out of how much she wants to be their friend. I like to call this the “living with gay men” syndrome. There is really no cure, but the benefit is that I can always use this as a means to get my single friends to babysit her when we are out of town.

Five: Lays around ninety-nine percent of the time. Runs around the house like a crazed monster the other one percent.

Most of the time I can easily associate Izzy with that Bruno Mars song about laying around and not doing anything all day. But every so often, she has a momentary bout of crazy. She will suddenly start running around the house as if it is on fire. She will dig all of her blankets out of her bed and string them around the house. She will run back and forth for no apparent reason. She will pick up toys and throw them. I have yet to figure out what this behavior means, but I’m pretty sure when the time comes for her to try and tell us that Billy is trapped in the well, we won’t think anything of it and just associate it with one of these fits of maniacal terror.

Izzy is a very special dog. We rescued her based on pure personality alone and she constantly makes me feel better when I am having a bad day. She is sweet beyond my wildest imaginings of what a dog should be, and though she may be a bit awkward and confusing at times, she plays the part of Man’s best friend well, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters.

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This post comes out of a weekly writing prompt I do with Carl Li and others.  Check out his blog of the week HERE.

This week’s topic came from WordPress’ weekly writing prompt.  How meta??