Okay, those last couple posts were too sad. So let’s talk dogs again. The puppies are three months old and all legs. I swear you can see them grow as you watch. They can reach things our old dog never even though of reaching for. They’re smart. They can open doors and get into covered wastebaskets. Swear to God. This morning, they tore their unused pee pad to smithereens and scattered white fluff all over the laundry room and back yard. It looked like it had snowed. What do you do? By the time you discover it, dogs don’t remember what you’re mad about. So you cuss a little and clean it up. The wisdom offered in the dog books is that if they tore something up, you should hit yourself on the head with a newspaper for leaving it in their path. I guess this is their way of saying they don’t need pee pads during the day anymore.
But oh the joy of watching them run so fast they almost fly, the giggles watching Annie poke her head out of the tarp over the wood rack, the pure pleasure of sitting with one dog on each side sharing love, and the fun of watching them discover the world now that they’ve gotten over their fear of going for a walk. Everything is new and exciting to them. And if they greet me by jumping all me with muddy feet and nipping at my clothes, that’s because that’s how they greet each other, and I’m one of the pack.
I’m looking forward to starting doggy school next month. I want to get beyond come, sit and stay. I want them to really learn “Off!” When people ask how they are, the answer these days is always, “Big!”
It’s like raising children on an accelerated schedule. They’ll hit puberty at five months and be fully grown in a year. And eventually, please God, they’ll calm down and we can trust that if we bring them in the house they won’t bite through the TV cables or potty on the floor. Meanwhile, I’d better go see what they’re up to now.