Belly's smart bump IS rather large

And yet.

S. has three dogs, all of whom are older and smaller than the Belly Girl. Kylie is a 13-year-old border collie mix, Mulder is a 13-year-old beagle, and Scully is a ten-year-old--are you ready for this mix?--Basset dachshund mix. All are female and, don't tell anyone, but Scully is S.'s favorite. A few months ago S. decided to install a dog door on the back sliding doors so that he didn't have to get up every five minutes to let one in or out. Now they can come and go as they please and the squirrels who used to hang out on the deck and taunt Scully? They've moved on.

The first time I brought Annabelle over to meet the dogs, I was vewy vewy afraid that she'd be a big shit and try to dominate the other three. But my fears were unfounded and she was SUCH a good girl. (Maybe I ought to stop worrying about her being a shit and just let her be. Hmmmm....) But here's the funneeee: she couldn't figure out the dog door.

I pushed her out the dog door and she resisted, but finally I pushed her butt hard enough that she was outside. But she couldn't figure out how to come back in. S. and I tried to give her positive reinforcement by having a treat in hand at the other end when I shoved her body back into the house, but no go. Instead she sat and stared up at the human door, waiting for me to open it for her. Meanwhile, the other three goofballs are coming in and out, in and out, while Belly's sitting there waiting for me to open the human door. And when she was outside, she'd stare back in at us with the most pathetic look on her face, every once in a while looking down at one of the other three who were good-naturedly demonstrating for Belly how it's done. But she just didn't want to learn. It is, I think, beneath her to imagine that she could do this for herself. Nope. She needs the assistance of her humans.

We're having her smart bump measured again on Wednesday.