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Selective amnesia with male house guests

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Pyr and Rosa

Pyrrha and my friend Rose.

Whether she likes it or not, Pyrrha is becoming a veritable veteran of hospitality. We’ve had a glut of house guests this fall (almost every weekend!) and Pyrrha has just learned to roll with it. This past weekend, our good friends Kemp and Rose came to stay with us. Thankfully, like most of our friends, they are great “dog people” and they quickly won her over.

She’s still not exactly Miss Casual when new people show up, but Pyrrha has made great strides in warming up and gaining confidence around strangers who stick around for a few nights.

One weird thing: She seems to have something of a short-term memory with overnight guests, especially if they’re men. After an hour, she will have warmed up to a new man and be willing to lick his feet, initiate play with him, etc. But the next morning, when he comes out of the bedroom, she acts like she’s never seen him before and runs away from him. (She’s occasionally done this with female house guests, too, but it’s a more common behavior with men.)

Any idea what this could mean? Does Pyrrha have a mild form of selective amnesia?

I know that she’s more scared of men in general, but I’m not entirely sure how to explain why she’d be scared of a man she was buddies with the night before. I guess it’s all about warming up gradually over time? She’s still, after all, working on her trust and confidence around Guion, and he’s been here with her from Day One.

Oh, well. Our sweet, weird dog.

Eating in with guests (Evening of Carnage)

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Evening of Carnage

We had our good friends Matt and Liz over for dinner last week, for what we called an “Evening of Carnage.” (Guion roasted an amazing chicken from a local farm and then we watched “Kill Bill: Vol. 2.”)

Evening of Carnage

As you can see, Pyrrha joined us in the sunroom/back deck/whatever-you-want-to-call-it for the meal. She has been an increasingly good sport about our frequent house guests, and I think she’s starting to even enjoy it when people come over–especially when they’re associated with the wafting scent of roasted chicken. (She’s not allowed to be fed anything from the table, but we did give her a few scraps after we finished eating…)

More dog stories from this weekend coming up…

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