Alex is my friend’s rowdy little bunch of a dog: she does frantic laps around the room when guests arrive, and gnaws on flip-flops when bored.
A jack russell terrier, I got to share an apartment with her a few years ago. It was endearing how, when my bedroom door is open, she’d lay down, chin on paws, just by the doorway knowing she’s not allowed inside. But then she’d actually half-crawl, half-wiggle herself in slowly on her belly while letting out an occasional soft whine after every few inches forward. I’m pretty sure the whine happens whenever she successfully establishes eye contact.