I have come to realize that I need to start writing more about the silly things my mutts do. The boys are a source of endless entertainment and while they can be a well of frustration they are far more loving and comical than anything.
If it has not been clearly evidenced thus far in my blog, I have three dogs with vastly different personalities. Dane is the Old Man, aka Royalty and has been a crotchety s.o.b. since day one. He absolutely looks down on the other two for their antics and no, that is not me humanizing, all one needs to do is watch them interact for a moment and it is evident. Frankie is the Court Jester for sure. He is silly and sweet, playful, tail always wagging, and well… not always the brightest crayon in the box. Milo is a ball of energy, loving, and goofy. I often call him blockhead, or bulldozer as he will gleefully run amok, plowing through the chihuahuas, oblivious to their frustration as they are spun out from the impact.
This particular tale took place one day when I had just gotten home from work. The chihuahuas are confined while I’m gone and Milo has the run of the house. Whenever I get in, Milo dances and jumps following me down the hall to where the chis are kenneled. I am working on breaking Milo from jumping and I’m making some progress. Rather than jumping on me he is learning to jump in the air around me. It’s not exactly the, “Four on the floor,” dog trainer’s recommend but I’ll take it.
Anyway, we get to the bedroom and I let Dane and Frankie out of their crates, and all four of us head down the hall, their tails wagging, dancing around, happy to have me home, or maybe they are doing the potty dance, but it sounds nicer that they are happy to see me.
We reach the patio which leads to the yard and I see that Milo has found his toy, an “S” shaped curve of rubber (or some material) that he is carrying in his mouth. I do not like for him to take his toys outside as he never brings them back in the house.
All three dogs are at the back door, ready to burst out into the yard where they will bark at anything that moves and give the world hell. However, I make the mistake of asking Milo to drop his toy so I don’t have to retrieve it from the yard later. Milo is, for once, totally obedient. He immediately drops the toy… And it lands on Frank’s neck. Uh-oh.
Frank, now tethered with this heavy toy that just fell out of the sky begins to flail about, attempting to free himself. While I felt bad for him and was moving towards him to assist, I was also amused by his wild movements. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Milo has just spotted his toy moving and jerking about. He has no realization that the toy is moving because it is on Frankie.
In my head, the look on Milo’s excited face matches up to the dog in the movie, “Over the Hedge,” when he repeats the word “play!play!play!” I managed to block Milo in the nick of time and remove the toy from Frank’s neck right before Milo got ahold of it. Disaster averted!
Afterwards I had to laugh at the image of Frankie and the toy, and the idea of Milo yanking him all over the place in his excitement. With all three of them safe and the toy out of any of their reach, I shake my head and let them out into the yard. As they run and bark I call my mother and utter a common phrase, “You’ll never guess what the boys just did.”