Bisou's littermate, Bear, came over for a play date yesterday. In preparation, I removed the rug from the downstairs bedroom, moved the electric cords out of the way, and put down a selection of toys.
It had rained hard all morning, and Bear's owner and I were both weary from trying to get our respective puppies to do their business in the downpour. By the time we got together we were damp and frazzled and wondering what on earth had possessed us to get these dogs.
The minute we put Bear and Bisou down on the floor, there began a speeded-up Keystone Cops routine that continued non-stop for the better part of two hours. We did at one point forcibly separate the puppies and take them outside (it was only raining a little by then) to relieve themselves, but as soon as they were loose indoors again, the craziness resumed.
They stood on their hind legs and put their arms around each other's neck, then took turns knocking each other to the ground. The victim lay on his/her back while the victor stood triumphantly over him/her. Then the tables would turn and the victim would become the victor, and so on, forever and ever, world without end. You would think that after 30 or 40 minutes of this the pace would have slackened. Not at all. The wrestling and chasing and tug-of-warring went on unabated the entire time.
Bear and Bisou, who were the largest puppies in the litter, look quite different from each other. He is a “Black And Tan”; she is a “Ruby.” He is built like a little wrestler, with broad chest and shoulders. She is narrower and more feminine, as she ought to be. But there's nothing dainty about her affect. Throughout the play session, she gave as good as she got, and, unlike her silent brother, kept up an incessant rabid growl.
My friend and I sat on the sofa and tried to converse, but it's hard to have a rational dialogue when your eyes are tracking the whirlwind.
After our guests left, I gathered the toys, fed Bisou, and prepared myself for a silent, peaceful evening unbroken by puppy needs.
But I was wrong. As far as I could tell, the Bear interlude had only served to stimulate Bisou's nervous system rather than exhaust it. She was her usual self, and disappointed me grievously by not sleeping a minute longer than usual in the night. And today she was more full of energy than ever. She ran down the driveway as fast as her short legs would carry her. She ran mad circles around me. She ran far away so I could call her and she could run even faster towards me. On the still-green grass, she looked like an orange blur, her ears flapping, her skinny tail held high.
All in all, the play date was a success. The siblings had fun; my friend and I got to trade puppy horror stories; and Bisou got conditioned to an even higher level of athletic performance.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments
(
Atom
)
how cute; i can see it all so clearly, those flying puppies.
ReplyDeleterley used to get stronger after playing, too--the next day, instead of being tired, he wanted MORE MORE MORE.
now that he is 8, though, he sleeps more. you only have seven and three-quarters years to go.
I knew a guy who used to walk his Lab five hours a day! And that dog was incredibly hyper--the fitter he was, the more he needed to exercise. It's a dangerous spiral.
ReplyDelete