There are two kinds of people. There are those who think laughing at a dog's misfortune is cruel, and then there're those of us who own dogs. To love a dog it to secretly, guiltily root against it.
My all time favorite such dog moment occurred when Maddie's Cairn Terrier (think Toto) was at her favorite post, attentively watching squirrels through the sliding glass door. She sneezed. I will never forget the sound—
—that she made when her head ricocheted off the glass, nor the stunned look on her face, nor the spectacular kaleidoscope of dog snot all over the door, complete with the nose print at ground zero. One of the great laughs of all time.
Last night, Ed entered the pantheon. Wearing gym shorts, I was freezing my giblets off. I went looking for my sweat pants. Elderly Ed had claimed them; she was curled up and sleeping comfortably. I tried to coax her up. No dice. I extended a cookie bribe. Uh-uh. Finally, I ordered her off. With great resentment, she lifted her stiff old body and stepped off, and I snatched my sweats. Unbeknownst to both of us, her leg had gone down the pants leg, and the force of my tug spun her like a top. Ultimately unhurt, she yowled in surprise, finally spinning to a rest on her stomach, all fours sprawled. If her eyes had bugged out, she'd have been a character in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.