Our dog, Freddy, is a loveable golden doodle. And my brother, Sam, is a loveable old hooch, too.
But the two together are like oil and water. Freddy has made it clear that he doesn't like Sam's room or his car. Every morning when our mom comes into our rooms to wake us up, Freddy trots along to mine, hops up on the bed and cuddles with me. He's even been known to go into my room during the day while I'm at school, where he curls up on the bed and snoozes.
But when Freddy goes into my brother's room, it's a different story. He rushes up to Sam's bed, wags his tail, then rushes away as fast as his paws will take him––he's in and out in about three seconds. We are not exactly sure why. My guess is because Sam's room smells like a 17-year-old teenage boy's room (i.e., bad) and because he does not feed or walk Freddy very often.
My brother also recently inherited my uncle's old car. Last night when Sam came home, my mom came out to the driveway to greet him. Freddy padded out, too, and my mom opened the passenger's door hoping he would jump in and sit with my brother for a second. But Freddy just looked inside, saw my brother, sniffed and left.
I don't think my brother really cares because he likes his privacy. But we are never sure.
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