Pouting Pup

My seven-year-old Maltipoo pup pouts. He does. But he doesn’t stick out his bottom lip or furrow his fur-covered brow; what Domino does is far worse.

While getting ready for church one morning, I noticed my cute little fella watching me sit at my vanity table and putting on mascara.
“Mom never does that …unless she’s about to leave me.”

He knew the ritual. Domino is a smart pup. When our eyes met, he purposely turned his back on me in protest! He plopped down on his belly and put his head down flat on his paws.
He was pouting! My dog pouts!

This became a thing he did each time I sat at my vanity table to get ready. He waited until my eyes met his. “You’re about to go somewhere, aren’t you?”

We don’t have to speak. We know what is spoken by reading each other’s behavior. “Yes, Domino, I’m going to town, and you have to stay,” my eyes conveyed.

**PLOP!** Domino turned away with his fluffy butt facing me, demonstrating his objection.

Upon my return, Domino hops up and down gleefully. “I forgive you! I forgive you!” All is well in my loyal pup’s world again until…
I found something else he pouts about.

Whenever I sit down to eat something, Domino expects me to share. No matter how often I tell him, “No, this is Mama’s,” he waits patiently, smacking his lips.
Do dogs have lips?

Nevertheless, when I swallow the last bite, I endure the familiar view of that fluffy butt. It’s the sweetest, most precious bum with a poofy nub of a tail.

I’ve tried giving him a doggy snack made just for him while I eat what he thinks smells far better. Still, he doesn’t seem to understand that he isn’t supposed to eat what I eat.

Pouting and sitting on the back of the couch, Domino avoids looking back at me. I gesture with open arms that there is a comfortable seat available.

Domino spies a warm blanket draped across my lap, and that nub of a tail loses all control. He makes his way over to my welcoming arms and plops down on my lap.

“I forgive you…. if I must.”