What’s Up, Dog?

I think my dog has autism.

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You may be asking yourself why I would dare to make such an insane assessment.

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He has his own trampoline. Actually, this would be the second trampoline we have utterly destroyed. By we, I mean the autistic dog (possibly, the autistic kids, but who’s keeping score).

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It’s still there, isn’t it?

He’s scared of seemingly harmless household items for absolutely no reason, such as this lifeless cardboard tube.

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He is offended by all the noise that he does not make, even though he can be the loudest one in the house at times.

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And finally, he is socially awkward. He does not understand personal space or body language. This picture here was taken under extreme duress for poor cat. Cat was resting peacefully until dog came in from outside and plopped down behind him. Cat was determined not to give up prime real estate in the sunshine. I’m pretty sure this is one of those signs for the end of time. Something about grumpy old cat laying next to obnoxious / autistic dog.

{I may or may not have been talking about the dog the whole time, but who knows?}

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It has served us well

As a side note, please join me in saying farewell to well-used, tired, and worn-out sensory-input-jumping-toy/outdoor-dog-bed. It gave up the ghost this afternoon and will find a permanent home over yonder somewhere in the mountains (landfill).


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