Alex. He's always been a little confused about his dog-hood. He thinks it's a negotiable status. Especially as he gets older. You know, Troy's had Alex longer than he's had me! Isn't that weird? Alex is staring down the barrel of his 13th birthday! And he's still as spry as... as... as a spring buffalo. (Julia Child said that once and I've always loved it.)
A few days ago, Troy walks out into the back yard and sees this:
There's old Alex, just looking nonchalantly around at everything but at this cat. In the past, he would have gone berserk. And now he just looks at it, looks at us, looks at it, and finally back at us as if to say, "Cat? What cat? I don't see any cat." Or perhaps it's more like, "You can't be serious. I'm so OVER chasing cats." Either way, it takes a great deal of encouragement to get him to even half-heartedly go after the thing. Don't get me wrong, he has plenty of spunk in other areas, but like he said, he's OVER chasing cats. Dang it.