Sometimes intelligence skips a generation…

Lola is a well-trained, intellectually gifted animal. I am her Mommybeast so I may be biased, but I bet you’ll agree with me by the end of this post.

I came to that conclusion last night while ordering Dominos pizza for Hubster and me. I like to order the pizza on the computer, not the app, so I can pick my theme for the pizza counter they give you once your order is sent. There’s just something about that island theme countdown that makes me so happy. Ocean sounds, a parrot squawking away, and a Jamaican sounding man asking me “Wot’s ‘appenin’ man?”

Pizza is what’s happening, thanks for asking.

So yesterday I noticed a response from Lola the moment that first parrot sound started. She immediately goes into wait mode, sitting at the front door and staring straight ahead.

Every time the parrot squawked Lola would glance at the screen, as if she can read how much time is left until delivery. She would then continue to stare at the door. She held that position the entire time the pizza was being made. Once the pizza was out for delivery, the music on the countdown changes and sounds all festive – that’s when Lola shifts closer to the door and begins what I like to call hunt mode.

She knows her Italian sausage is being delivered soon, and she’s going to ensure she gets her share. And as soon as that doorbell is pushed, Lola moves in for the kill. She will fight whoever is answering the door in an attempt to make us drop the box and allow her full access to the toppings on the pizza.

Yesterday, I foolishly asked Hubster to answer the door…while he’s still recovering from leg surgery. Between the feet going over heads, the cursing at the top of the lungs, and the body being slammed into the front door, I wouldn’t be surprised if that delivery guy thought someone was being murdered.

And now I have to use a new theme to countdown my pizza delivery.

P.S. No Hubsters were hurt in the making of this blog.

P.P.S. That first P.S. was a total lie. Hubsters were hurt in the making of this blog. I made it up to him with pizza. 

P.P.P.S. I’m taking bets on how long it will take for Lola to recognize the sounds of my new pizza countdown choice. 

P.P.P.P.S. There’s a possibility I order too much pizza.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I just wanted to see how many post-scripts I could get in here. New record.

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