How Are Things in Cockerspanistan?

Marshall is a rescue cocker. For the life of us, we couldn't figure out how anybody could 'throw him away'. While physically removing him from the cat food for the third time in a day, it finally hit me: he's too damn smart. He was obviously way too smart for his previous owner. Since I don't define my intelligence (or manhood) by my dog's IQ, it doesn't bother me nearly as much. This is a good thing, as the cat is even smarter.

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When I come home from work, Marshall wags his stub a bit and leaps on the sofa next to me (assuming he's not already on the sofa). He leans against me, sitting up like a human, with his paws on my leg. Then we sniff each others' nostrils. It wasn't always this way - he used to sniff my nostrils exclusively but after a while, I started sniffing his nostrils, to keep things even and see what he would do.

He sits there while I rub his belly or his flaps. If I stop too quickly, he sticks his nose under my arm, the universal signal for PAY ATTENTION TO ME (the cat does it too). I comply immediately. This goes on for up to ten minutes.

When I get in bed and get settled, Marshall comes up and positions himself up against me, paws on my right shoulder. I get to scratch his flaps again. He makes hysterical growling noises and twirls, then nudges me for more. This can go on for a while too.

I put up a mock struggle but these are some of the best times of my day.