Baymule
Herd Master
Every evening, Paris parks herself in front of the patio glass doors, staring intently through them straight at me, sitting in my recliner. This is after I feed her. She won't eat until I go outside and praise her. Actually, I gush praise like a broken water main. I tell her, You are so smart! What a pretty girl! You protect Mommy's chickens and keep all those baaad raccoons away. You are the smartest dog in the whole world. You are gorgeous! What a good dog!
I speak in a high pitched voice, petting and stroking her while I sit on a bench. We are face to face, sometimes nose to nose. Paris beams. I swear, that dog is smiling, soaking up all that attention. When she deems it to me enough, not me, but she abruptly walks away and starts eating her food.
It is official. I am a slave to a Great Pyrenees.
I speak in a high pitched voice, petting and stroking her while I sit on a bench. We are face to face, sometimes nose to nose. Paris beams. I swear, that dog is smiling, soaking up all that attention. When she deems it to me enough, not me, but she abruptly walks away and starts eating her food.
It is official. I am a slave to a Great Pyrenees.
![:\](/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/side.png "side :\")
... we can always tell because she will run all the way to the outer field and "set-up". She gets all ready- they have a real long drive... when they come down the drive she is right there runs the line and then when they turn on the highway she runs that line too. It is all a game for her. I swear she smiles too! 
