But...I Am Dog.

I have zero shame in that I love my dog more than I like most people.  My dog is arguably one of the most amazing dogs ever, and those that have met her would agree.  She's lovable, and snuggly, and lazy, and oddly the most intelligent moron ever.  She was a dream to train, having only ever had a single accident in the house as a puppy!  And to many's surprise, she's trained to use a bell.  A bell that hangs on our door which she rings when she'd like to go out.

A bell, you're thinking?!?  Yep.  A bell.  She's a coonhound, and when she was a teeny puppy I had visions of an 80lb beast with a deafening bay in my then small home with low ceilings and hardwood floors.  So, I trained her to ring a bell. 

Now then, she and I have conversations.  Glorious conversations.  And I am not weird/alone.  Many people who come into my home have conversations with her.  While she cannot actually talk, her face is terribly expressive and she has a voice.  It's low for a female, and dopey...yet confident and full of certainty.  And when I was working, I always found myself longing to be home to have conversations with her.  ...what was I thinking?

[bell rings, my son puts SoCo out, three minutes later she barks twice to come back in]
Me: Ugh, you wrapped yourself around the deck.
SoCo: I am dog, and there were sniffies.  I was sniffing them.

[we go back inside...aaaaand three minutes later the bell rings again]
Me: Seriously?!?  Dude...  I'm not in the mood for your shenanigans.
SoCo: I am dog and it was wet out.  I had to pee.  I didn't have to poop.  Now I do. 
Me: You're killin' me, Smalls...

[I let her out; aaaaand three minutes later she barks twice again to come back in]
Me: SoCo, we are NOT doing this, this morning!  Did you do your business?
SoCo: I am dog and I pooped, Mama.  It's wet out and I don't like how it feels on my paws and you're going to complain that I smell like wet dog in about five minutes.  Let me in.
Me: Right...[sighing] you're right.  Let's go.

[we go back inside...aaaaand three minutes later the bell rings again]
Me: No.  Absolutely not!  You've peed.  You've pooped.  You did all that, right?  You're not going back out!  No.  Enough.
SoCo: I am dog and I did do those things.  But.  There's sniffies.
Me: You're not going out to sniff.  No way.
SoCo: I am dog and there's a squirrel!
Me: OMG, NO!
SoCo: The neighbor's cat?
Me: NOOOOO!
SoCo: The mailman!  I know he's lurking about.  Don't worry, I'll protect you.
Me: Sweet Jesus.  It's 7:30am.  There's no mailman, and are you kidding me?!?  Eric the mailman doesn't lurk.
SoCo: I am dog, and he lurks!  I've seen it.  You're not always home.  He's sketchy and I'm trying to save you.  You're ungrateful.
Me: Ungrateful?!?  Over the mailman who is NOT sketchy?  You're ridiculous.  Go lay down.
SoCo: I am dog and I'm laying down under protest.  [she throws herself onto the floor right in front of the door]  PROTEST!

Thank God.  I start muttering to myself as I do the dishes and push the younger Fay children along in their morning routines.  We're almost out the door to catch the bus...

[bell rings]
SoCo: I am dog, and I'd like to bark at you while you stand at the bus stop. 
Me: OMG, NO!
SoCo: ...but the mailman!  He's out there, I know it!  I'm just protecting you and my kids.
Me: NO!
SoCo: A chipmunk?  A squirrel?  That neighbor boy who stands in the front window and makes me upset with his yelling and faces? 
Me: No!  Go watch the Smithsonian Channel I put on for you.
SoCo: THE SMITHSONIAN CHANNEL?!?  Deal.  I won't ring again for another hour.

[facepalm]