Occasionally, she will bark – singularly – at nothing. We’ll stumble into whatever-room-she’s-claimed-for-herself to see what the hullabaloo is about, and she just stares at us like … WHAT DO YOU WANT?
She’ll also walk straight up to my desk and whine at me. I wish she knew English, because I have no idea what she wants. Sometimes I whine back, but that has yet to solve the problem.
Also, it’s likely that she’s allergic to gluten and corn. Poor John … all the ladies in his life are picky eaters.