At home Lola thinks she rules the roost. She’ll bite Indie and jump all over us. She’ll jump on the coffee table, steal a mouth-full of Indie’s food, and she’ll scale the baby-gate that supposed to keep her quarantined to the main level. In a word, she’s still a twerp.
But around other dogs and people, she’s a different dog. She’s a chicken. The dog whisperer would call her poorly socialized. I’d say it’s nonsense, she’s well-socialized, she’s just a pansy.
On our daily walk the other night, we caught up with our neighbor who has a pair of pink-collared shih-tzus. Indie, tail wagging, gave each pooch a sniff then let our neighbor give her a pat on the head. All the while, Lola cowered behind Laura.
Laura: Lola, say hello.
Neighbor: Oh, she’s so cute! I remember when she was just a tiny thing.
Laura: Yeah, they grow up fast. But for some reason this one grew up shy.
Neighbor: It’s ok.
Laura: I suppose. But with as nervous as she is, I’m afraid that people are going to think we lock her in the basement and beat her.
Neighbor: (Smiling and laughing, with a heavy dose of sarcasm) You’re right, dear. When I see you coming the first thing I think is ‘oh no, here comes the hitter!’