Reverse Napoleon Complex

A while ago I read (part of) the Dog Whisperer's book in an effort to better understand my canines' psychological issues. The book begins with something like, "Dogs are dogs. They are not people in dog costumes." I remember thinking, Well, of course. Duh. Everyone knows that.

Except that's not true for my dogs.

Although I'm fairly certain someone like Kenny Baker doesn't reside within a gray and black furry costume, roaming our house for a soft spot to lay his drool-filled jowls while he contemplates how hard it is to have to sleep 23 hours a day, I think sometimes that Parker forgets (or maybe he doesn't know) he isn't human.

He doesn't like to spend too much time outside. He refuses to lay on the ground unless he has a cushion or a soft blanket. He won't drink out of a bowl. The list goes on.

He also doesn't know that he isn't a 12-pound dog.

Last weekend, in my crack high that is a Costco visit, I forgot that at 30 pounds, Sydney really isn't a tiny dog, and bought her a bed that is way too small.

Sydney humoring me.

Apparently, though, it isn't too small for Parker. Who is a petite 135 pounds. And nearly 6 feet tall on his back legs. Once I got out the new dog bed, Parker claimed it for his own and insisted on trying to curl up on it and sleep, no matter where I moved it.

Parker calling dibs on the sweet new bed.

Oh yes, it's under there.

Fits like a glove. A very, very small glove.