Beorn is a damn fine looking dog, and he knows it.
He gets a lot of attention when we are out in public. So much so that he has grown to expect it, and he gets a little upset if he senses that he is not being given due affection.
The other day Mrs. Sigmadog was out running errands. As she often does, she took Beorn with her (he loves road trips like Oprah loves a buffet). She pulls up to a pump at a gas station, gets out and starts filling the tank (it’s not that hard, people of Oregon - we know you can do it), while Beorn sits and looks out his open window in the back.
A guy pumping gas in the next lane sees Beorn and says to Mrs. Sigmadog, “That is the most beautiful dog I’ve ever seen.”
Mrs. Sigmadog thanked the gentleman for his kind words. But what she should have said was, “Quiet! Don’t say that in front of him!”
Beorn, for his part, harrumphed and then lay down. He was satisfied, having filled his daily requirement of praise.
Beorn often exhibits an air of majesty, like he believes he’s descended from royalty and just biding his time until the uprising that will restore him to power.
We do our best to keep him humble. When I see him getting too full of himself, I remind him that just this morning on our hike in the woods, I saw him eating poop.
It doesn’t always work on him, but it keeps things in perspective for me.