Furry Fountain of Youth

Our household has sustained a complete upset to the regular routine.

What was once a place of peaceful retreat, gazing upon the wonders of Nature as the river slides past has been transformed to the epicenter of activity, dis-organization, noise and in general a whirling dervish.

“What”, you ask, “has caused such a state of affairs?”

The short answer is:

A PUPPY

My Lovely Bride and I are animal-lovers from way back. Followers of this site know of a parade of dogs, cats, and other critters.

Our present dog, Mimi, is politely referred to as “a senior canine citizen.” In less genteel times, she would be called a “pretty old dog”. Her once black markings are now silver, her gait has slowed, and her activity level is reminiscent of a snail on Valium.

It is obvious to even the most casual of observers the sand is running out of her hour glass. Losing a pet is extremely difficult; my heart has several dog and cat shaped holes acquired over the past 4 decades.

In order to blunt the edge of losing another dog, the only sensible thing to do is: GET ANOTHER DOG.

On the surface, it is the most sensible thing in the world to do. In practice....perhaps a bit more thought should have gone into this.

Two weeks ago, a bouncing bundle of loose white skin, shiny black eyes, black button nose, and teeth that would be the envy of any barracuda arrived in our lives. I won't belabor the how and who and what that led to this momentous event; suffice it to say the back-story is somewhat convoluted.

We carefully introduced the puppy (named after a former President. No it is NOT Ronnie or George)

to Mimi in a neutral setting. As Mimi perceives me as “the big dog”, my Lovely Bride dropped Mr. President, myself, and our grand-daughter off while she went and gathered up Mimi. Being in a neutral area, with me having the puppy set the stage for their relationship. Mimi was not threatened or aggressive toward the little guy. While she didn't fling the door open, and help move his stuff into the house, she didn't attempt to tear him asunder either. In fact, she pretty much ignored the little guy. For a day.

She had not been exposed to puppies other than her litter mates. As a result, she really didn’t know how to play. When the little guy would come darting up to her, yipping, assuming the “play with me” puppy pose, she looked at him as if thinking “Go away, Kid... you bother me.” Finally, she would make a playful grumble and feint at him. He would skitter away, stubby tailing wagging. Back he would come, she would feint again. Eventually, she would get up and chase after him. They would stop, looking at one-another. Then, like a shot, they would take off, him chasing after her. This would go on for some time.

He has since learned nipping her on the butt is an effective  way to get her to chase after him. If he gets too aggressive, she will plow into his side with her head, rolling him over a couple times. The little fellow will scramble to his feet, walk over to her, and lie down, almost as if apologizing to her for getting carried away. After some nuzzling; the game is on again.

While the above is so heartwarming, so Disney-esque (old school Disney); our home underwent a bit of adjusting, shall we say.

We had not had a puppy in nearly 10 years.

And, the puppy we had was from a litter we had bred. As a result, there was no “puppy's first night away” to deal with.

Because we had a litter of pups, our home was fairly well puppy proofed.

His first night, he was less than thrilled to be alone. The second night he was with us, my Lovely Bride ended up sleeping on The Sacred White Couch with him cuddled beside her.

Ever since, he has been a good sleeper, not making a sound until morning.

It is amazing how our brains repress traumatic incidents. We had forgotten just HOW MUCH WORK

puppies entail!!

Oh my gosh... it is like having a toddler in the house again!!

No, it is like having TWO toddlers in the house!!!

The little guy is a perpetual motion machine... until he finally collapses! Then, we have a brief respite which allows my Lovely Bride & I to put everything back together, do some house work, and gulp down more coffee. Oh yeah, also apply dressings to the barracuda teeth induced wounds.

Mimi retires to her favorite spot under a kitchen chair, eyes closing as soon as her chin hits the floor. The poor old girl is wiped out! In her mind, she is singing the canine version of the Hallelujah Chorus.

We go back over the storm path, spraying everything with the stop-chewing product that I am convinced tastes like roast beef gravy; he is unfazed by it.

Sorry, Mom, about the corner of The Sacred White Couch. Hey, the antique stores go for the “gently used” look Think of it as adding a bit of savoir faire to the piece. Gives it a more rustic feel, know what I mean?

We also discovered a new wrinkle which was not so prevalent a decade ago. Communication wires.

Did you know dogs find the texture and flavor of computer cables absolutely addictive? Neither did we.

More “Yummy-Yumm Spray”... with about the same results as those seen by the couch.

I am particularly perplexed by the phenomena known as “Chewed the toy once, it is now unclean."

This little fella has nearly as many chew toys, squeaky toys, you name it toys as the pet supply store.

A brand new one will hold his attention for a full 6 or 7 minutes. Then, he will leave it... rarely to use it again!
Even the trick of putting all the toys in a a bowl (stainless steel, the most resistant to Mr. Barracuda Jaws) so he can find “new” ones isn't working! This puppy is just too smart!

Now we have gotten past the “What were we thinking?” phase. He is so cute, so adorable, that only lasted about ½ a day. Like any new parents, our baby can do no wrong. He is just being his unique little self.

And, Mimi... well Ike (yes, we inadvertently have Ike and Mimi) has infused her with joy of life once again.

If I am not mistaken, there appears to be more sand in her hour-glass.

Come to think of it, mine seems a bit fuller.