Home Buddy Bulldog Chronicles: Buddy and His Ottoman Empire

Bulldog Chronicles: Buddy and His Ottoman Empire

Bulldog Chronicles: Buddy and His Ottoman Empire
bulldog tug a war with Buddy
“This ottoman ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

Buddy (my bulldog) and I have settled into a daily routine, one that succumbs to tweaks now and then, mostly based on who is willing to budge, acquiesce, or turn the other cheek. So far, I still wear the crown, but my clever boy knows an opportunity when he sees one. Perhaps, you didn’t know the “b” in bulldog, stands for many things, from bossy and beautiful to bull-headed and beloved. So last week, Buddy carried out a land grab, one that I will happily concede to; his own ottoman empire so to speak. (Let me explain.)

When daylight wanes and temperatures drop, I head out to close up the chicken coop. Buddy, a complete barnyard gentleman, accompanies me on my rounds, though truth be told his stellar decorum was encouraged after his first foray into a low wattage chicken fence.  Back in the house after we’ve both done our business (Buddy’s less mentionable), Buddy gets a treat for helping me, and we head upstairs.

bulldog happy dance
Buddy’s Happy Dance

In the TV room sits a large, albeit sad-looking ottoman, one that would have been thrown out the window if it had fit through the opening. It’s heavy, ugly and soiled from dining dogs and dirty paws. Needless to say, Boz and Gracie loved it. I loathed it, and swore when Boz and Gracie were gone, I’d pitch the monstrosity. (Word to the wise, not all garage sale finds are worthy of purchase, no matter what the price.) Currently, I dress it up with an old Hudson Bay Blanket.

Unfortunately, Buddy latched on the prime pooch real estate before I could say “claim jumper” or find someone to help me maneuver it down a flight of stairs and into my truck. This perch was his throne and I his jester. Entertain me, Tom, entertain me. Last night I watched Downton Abbey, while playing tug of war with Mr. Buddy. Talk about multi-tasking.

His favorite toys have specific purposes: the rope is for tug-a-war; the squeaky toy for fetching; and beef bones for gnawing with wild abandon. But last night our game-playing took a twist, one that made me laugh at first, that is before I saw the need to stand my ground. Buddy, my good man, you get the ottoman, but may I remind you that does not make me your valet. (Just call me Bates.)

bulldog buddy with a bone
A dog and his bone

As Buddy chewed his bone in full beast mode, it rolled off of the ottoman and onto the floor. Without thinking, I picked it up and put it back in his paws and jaws. Minutes later, said boned rolled off the ottoman again and onto the floor. Buddy turned to look at me in a way that can only be described as one that said, “Well, aren’t you going to get that?”

He looked over the edge of the ottoman like Wile E. Coyote looking down a miles-deep canyon with no end in sight. I said, “Buddy, I’m not getting that, it’s only a foot way.” He started to whimper like the bone was floating on a bed of lava, unattainable and lost forever. I repeated, “Buddy, not happening.” This went on for some time as I tried to concentrate on the more important issues at hand: will Lady Mary find love, will Anna have a baby, and will Lord Grantham survive his ulcer?

bulldog on ottoman
The bulldog version of giving me the cold shoulder

My next bathroom break, Buddy settled down, secured his bone and held court in a more courteous way. He tried the bone trick a couple more times, but in the end, I declared domestic victory. Ah Buddy, you already have my heart, and now the ottoman, but I really would like to keep the house. I think these are boundaries we both can live within.

Bulldog barking
Buddy pleads his case


  1. Buddy, let Tom keep the kitchen in the house so he can create all kinds of treats for you! We give our human that pleasure.

    You have to keep then occupied or they will just get themselves into all type of trouble. Let them know you love them with all your heart BUT they must comply with rules.

    The Furry Gang

  2. When I bought an extra fleece throw this winter to snuggle in my reading chair, Georgie the Schnoodle thought it looked too good to miss. Although he has his own fleece throw, mine must be nicer. I put it on the floor next to the chair, and came back to find him snuggled on it. We are now sharing: I get it for reading, he sleeps on it at night.

  3. Face it, Tom, Buddy is the boss from here on in. Too cute!!!!

    Tom Conway — wasn’t that the name of an actor way back when — brother of George Sanders?

  4. My dog made it his mission to destroy every toy we tried. I braid 3 strips of fleece together then knot the ends, sometimes tying the rope together at the ends to form a loop. He was not happy that he could not tear it apart but got used to it. They get so disgusting with slobber after much use I throw it away because I can’t bring myself to put it in my washing machine.

  5. Buddy is just the bees knees! But please please please send photos of your girls. I’m crazy about chickens and would love to know what kind you have and more about how they are doing. Any and all chickie information would be most welcome!! But don’t stop telling us about the Budster!

  6. Yay – another entry in your blog. It always makes my day. Buddy’s trick is an old one – before we had Gracie, we had her half-sister, Lily, who tragically died very young from liver failure. But when she was alive, SHE WAS ALIVE!!! She did the same thing with her tennis ball – dropped it, and my daughter retrieved it – every time. Did she have Erin trained! At one point I was having the living room repainted, and we found 7 tennis balls and six water bottles under the furniture (well, I DO clean around the edges!:) I must say, the ottoman, however gross, LOOKS handsome with it’s Hudson’s Bay blanket. I love the picture of Buddy from the back – I did a double take. I thought, “Is Tom dressing Buddy in human clothes? Surely not!” Looks like her’s wearing brown trousers. Adorable!

  7. Along with my growing orchard, I have seven purebred miniature (and not-so-miniature) dachshunds that would give Buddy a run for his ottoman – and his bones! ;-D


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.