Friday, January 11, 2008

You Can't Fight City Hall

Here's Pippin in "his" chair. Actually, A chose it for himself, with visions of putting his slippered feet up after a hard day of work. Then Pippin coopted it. For several years, A refused to call it Pip's Chair (as in, "go to your chair, boy!"). He insisted, misguidedly, that it was still his own. Then, two nights ago, I heard A utter the fateful words. It seems that you can't fight city hall indefinitely. City hall will win. And a dog cannot be swayed from the dogged pursuit of abject comfort. After all these years, A has finally admitted defeat. Pip won't crow over his victory, however. In his generous, doggy way, it's enough for him that he snooze the hours away undisturbed by territory battles.


Too Little Time said...

What we do for our animals...:) K

Anonymous said...

What a sweet face he has.

Rima said...

Hey Leah!
This Rima from and Granny Along. Thanks for visiting and it is wonderful to meet you--especially someone who lives simultaneously in PhD-land and blogland :) When I get back to NYC, we should definitely meet up. Until then, see you in cyberspace!