Why dogs love who they love.

I don't know the answer. Do you?

On Saturday, Kristine posed an interesting question on her blog - if you could ask your dog just 1 thing and he was granted the power to reply, what would it be?

If you check my response in the comments section, and The Cushion's, I think it'll become obvious why Georgia's favourite human is him, and not me. [The question must have been top of his mind because he blurted it out almost immediately.]

So our dog doesn't love me as much as she does The Other Half. It's okay. No sympathy or denials required. I was going to count all the votes from the last post, biased or not ;) for fun.

But, my own observations are enough.

I've heard from girlfriends that their girldogs prefer their other halves too. They're all daddy's girls apparently. Could this be true? Is there some kind of scientific evidence of this phenomenon? Or are we just a bunch of failed disappointed dog owners clutching at straws?

Anyway, I'm hoping it's as simple as that. And not that Georgia's canine instincts tell her I'm A Really Bad Person.

The Other Half often tells Georgia, in that barf-worthy baby voice he reserves only for dogs, "You'll always be my girl, Jaw-Jah!"

To which I can only respond with a bright smile on my face, "It's okay, Georgia! You don't have to love me! You just have to love someone."

And I mean that, from the bottom of my [ever so slightly sad and bitter] heart.

*

Here are the promised pictures from Saturday's phở lunch, which The Cushion insists I include, no doubt as proof of his devotion.

"Are you sure you didn't hide any of my beef under the noodles?"

*

Of course [not to sound like a sour grape], there is some debate that dogs actually love at all. This might not be the most appropriate sentiment to include in a dogblog read mostly by doglovers but, as you can tell, I'm not at all an·thro·po·mor·phic an(t)-thrə-pə-ˈmȯr-fik

* Your dog does not love you and other cold-nosed truths.

And here's a somewhat related topic -

* Why people love dogs.

An excerpt :

"Over thousands of years of living with humans, dogs have become wily and transfixing sidekicks with the particularly appealing characteristic of being unable to speak. We are therefore free to fill in the blanks with what we need to hear. (What the dog may really be telling us, much of the time, is, "Feed me.")"

"Are you sure you didn't hide any of my beef under the noodles?"    "Are you going to feed me?"

"It's okay. You can let go now."

On yet another somewhat related topic, Pamela asked this question, also over the weekend  - does loving dogs automatically qualify a person for sainthood? [She didn't use those exact words.]

She included a riveting video of Hitler and his [apparently beloved] dog, Blondi. I guess that sort of answers the question.