Good Cop/Bad Cop

In my house it’s pretty much good cop/bad cop. Bad cop feeds me (dog food) and takes me for long walks. She brushes me with a variety of tortuous instruments. She pets me sometimes, but I am always nervous because as soon as I relax for a decadent belly rub, she can pull out one of her many brushes. Who wants their belly brushed?

Good cop doesn’t ever brush me. He is afraid to hurt my feelings. Good cop feeds me real food. He worries about me being too small and feeds me cheese and lets me lick his plate (when bad cop isn’t looking). He makes mix-ins with dry food and bits of leftovers. He holds me on his lap and asks for kisses and lets me lick his beard. I can always relax with good cop because I know he is not being nice because he has some evil ulterior motive (like guess who).

I was suspicious yesterday when bad cop was petting me a little too sweetly and giving me treats without even demanding that I sit. Then she whipped out a brush. She was being very gentle and nice when she slipped off my collar and picked me up. Now laps are fine. Bed cuddling is fine. But I don’t like being carried around.

As you’ve probably guessed, I found myself locked in the bathroom with water running in the tub. I have been working very hard rolling in mud and sand and smelly places in the grass to get just the right combination of scent and grit. In fact, I’ve been noticed by more than one dog on my walks lately. I left all that good stuff behind in the tub. Now I smell like Johnson’s Baby Shampoo.

Next time bad cop is really nice to me, I’m going to hide under the bed.