She may look cute, but lurking inside Bridget is another personality altogether. We call her Brigitta.
Brigitta plays rough. Brigitta bites. Brigitta nibbles on your toes as you walk by. Brigitta knows how to run full throttle on three legs while hitting Ben with the fourth.
Brigitta showed up at our house this morning.
I don’t know if we stayed up too late, got up too early, didn’t let her outside early enough, didn’t let her back in for treats fast enough…who knows. But all in all, today did not start out well for our Bridget.
She rolled cutely on the floor in front of Mama, then bit her on the hand.
Mama pinched her ears. Brigitta cried, then bit Mama on the hand. Mama pinched her ears again and on the cycle went until I finally said “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH” and walked away.
Daddy isn’t so forgiving. Brigitta nibbled on him and promptly went into timeout in the other room. Small room, doors shut, completely ignored for about 20 minutes. She cried, paws explored under the door – no one came to her rescue.
We let her out just before leaving for work and a very repentant Bridget rejoined the family.
Poor girl. Maybe she needs psychotherapy.
Or maybe we do.
