| [Tags**|dear mischa, dog, love, mischa, snuggles] [Current Mood** |
affectionate]Dear Mischa,You know that I love you. Come to think of it, quite a lot of people love you, which is probably why you, just now, you were lying on the plush living-room carpet with people all around you petting and stroking and massaging and grooming you, while you sprawled out with several hands on your body. But presently, without much in the way of prior warning, you scrambled to your feet and padded over to disappear under the table that shelters your dog-bed. That's defined as your private space, where humans aren't allowed to pester you, so going there was a pretty good statement that you'd had enough petting and didn't want any more.The way we see it, you have a finite capacity for affection. We call it your Kraultank or your _Liebestank_—a notional container that periodically needs refuelling with love, but which has clearly-defined limits. When those limits are reached, then it's time for you to reassert your primal malamute Würde.In a way, it would be nice if you were like a Golden Retriever: a dog with an absolute, unquestioning, boundless capacity for affection, which we humans could indulge at our will. But you're not. You have your own agenda, your own self-possession, your own needs and your own space. You both accept and give affection on your own terms. You are our dog, but in a fundamental sense you are your own person, and I find that a wonderful and dignified thing.Much love,me. |