K is for Keep Out

When my sisters came to Maine for my college graduation, they managed to miss it. By about a half hour. They called me, and I told them to just go to my house. It'd be unlocked.

They pulled into the driveway. "Is this the right place?" Laura asked.

Tammy looked around. "That's Baxter, isn't it?"

Together, Tammy, Laura, and Jacci grabbed their belongings and made their way into my unlocked house. Baxter, rather than meeting them at the door, cowered behind the couch, and pissed himself.

When I arrived home, they told me this story, laughing. "Some protector dog you have," they mocked.

"It would have been a different story if I'd been home," I reassured them. They continued to laugh.

He's all, "This is my stuff. I
guard it"

We stayed up celebrating. In the morning, Laura was awake, and rather than knocking on my closed bedroom door, barged in.

Baxter lunged after her.

"Told you so," I laughed, after she slammed the door.

It turns out, Baxter has established some house rules, and I've found this out the hard way:

1) If the door is closed, and the Lynne is sleeping, NO ONE is allowed in until she's awake
2) Other dogs can be allowed in the bedroom, but they are NOT allowed on the bed
3) Other dogs are NOT allowed to eat out of his food bowl
4) Other dogs are NOT allowed to smell or be too near my stuff, especially if I didn't invite them over

They're not bad rules, I suppose. I'm just always shocked to see when Baxter goes from adorable goof to over protective pup.