Dashwood seems to belong to E more than to the rest of us. Sure, T feeds him. All six of us play with him and take him out to do "his thing." Dash cuddles up with me each evening after dinner on the sofa and cuddles up with anyone who's on the sofa or armchair during the day.
But E is the apple of his little doggie eye. She trained him. She usually walks him. And he sleeps with her every night, curling up into a ball under her bedcovers after Keith takes him out for the last time. He also wakes her up each morning, usually with a doggie stretch and a doggie smooch. We all love him, but in his little doggie heart, he belongs to her.
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