Is It...(Gulp)...NEW?

Pillow has reached "yesterday's news" status.
When Mumma throws this away, Blue will
hold it against me.

We have an odd dynamic in our house with respect to “new” things.  A new thing is defined as anything that has not existed in the house or car since the beginning of greyhound time.   When we’re out and about, it is apparently expected that we will frequently encounter new things and thus, in that context it is OK.  If it happens in the safe zone (house or car) luckily for us there seems to be an established protocol for dealing with such horrors.

When a new thing arrives in the safe zone, let’s say for example, a dog bed, it is an object of great concern.  One might get close enough to it for a quick sniff and then remove oneself to a safe distance to ponder the smell.  If passing by said new object, one gives it a wide berth.  You never know if the new object might reach out and bite you.  Better safe than sorry as the old adage goes.

After a period of time observing the new thing and with careful consultation amongst the canine residents of the safe zone, someone is elected to investigate more closely.  The electee then gets a little closer to the new thing, and, in the case of our example dog bed, would step on it and jump right back off.  Electee reports back to group as a whole. 

TSA (Crandall), an inherent cowboy.

Sometimes a canine goes cowboy and without consultation or election, throws themselves on the hand grenade and gives the new thing a thorough going over.  The cowboy might actually lie down on our example bed and finding it comfortable and to their liking, may even opt to remain on the bed.

Assuming the electee is not eaten, then the rest of the group will consider it safe enough to also investigate the new thing more thoroughly.  After this, the new thing experiences a metamorphosis from scary new object, to coveted object.  There follows a running battle to be the one who gets to use the new thing.  With our example dog bed, that means a free for all to be the one to lie on the new bed.

There are, as always, exceptions to any rule.  Some dogs are inherent cowboys.  Grammy’s hound Crandall is this sort.  He never met a new thing he didn’t want to stick his head in and see what’s going on.  We call him TSA because he insists on inspecting every bag he ever encounters.

Some dogs are Rain Men.  For them it’s always boxers and not briefs.  Nothing new is acceptable.  If you bring in a new thing, it remains suspect for all time.  Grammy’s hound Fox, and to some extent Blue are examples of this. 

After a period of time (the length of which is a complete mystery to Mumma), the new thing goes from coveted object, to yesterday’s news.  Then no one really cares about it and if someone happens to use it, no one gives it a passing thought.  That is until you remove it and replace it with something else new.  Then it becomes enshrined in memory as that shining golden, most favoritist thing that Mumma took away, ruining lives in the process.