Need Some Distraction – ND #99

Rawhide Offering – Photo: L. Weikel

Need Some Distraction

I do believe the four legged creatures with whom I share my life are realizing that I (and perhaps you) need some distraction from the world at large. To that end, we can all give Brutus and Pacha – and the ever-suffering Tigger – our sincere appreciation.

Who knows what I was going to write about tonight. It’s a mystery. If I did have an idea, it flew out the window when, the moment I sat down and opened my laptop, Brutus jumped up and accosted Tigger, who was snoozing on the back of the couch.

Don’t get me wrong. It was not an aggressive assault, but rather an enthusiastic one. One that could only be perpetrated by a puppy who’s loved and abided patiently by the elders in the household. Especially Tigger.

When I realized what was being played out before my wondering eyes, I tried my best to capture the saga with my iPhone. The problem with that is the sad fact that these puppies have grown up with an iPhone in my hand, and I swear they stop what they’re doing as soon as they see it. Or they look the other way. Or they move from the adorable position I’ve found them in and immediately pretend to be doing something else.

They’re devil dogs!

 

Brutus: Play With Me!

Over the past week or so, Brutus has become adamant about wanting – no, needing – to play in the evening when Karl and I are both in the process of folding our tents. There have been a few times recently when he has hopped on the couch and presented a squeaky toy literally in my face when I’ve dozed off watching a program. It’s a new phase that I hope he grows out of quickly.

I’m selfishly relieved, however, to see that he’s extending his gambit of frivolity to the feline kingdom as well. How he manages not to get scratched silly, I can only chalk up to remarkable fortitude and patience on Tigger’s part.

Tonight’s effort was a spontaneous sharing of the braided rawhide chew toy I gave to the pups this morning in order to distract them from demolishing a pair of Karl’s reading glasses. He hopped onto the couch and dumped it on Tigger’s back.

Tigger ignored him. What braided rawhide?

Pacha coyly flirted with him from the seat of the couch. “I like the look of that braid, Tigger,” she growled softly. Tigger didn’t bite. Instead, he gave Pacha a baleful glance and returned to the dreamtime.

 

Brutus brought yet another offering – this time one of their favorite squeaky toys.

Tigger feigned sleep.

Undaunted, Brutus brought yet another chew toy from across the room and dropped it on Tigger’s side. Nothing.

I wondered how long this was going to last and thought Brutus might start burying Tigger with his and his sister’s vast collection of squeakers and chew toys. But no. Moments later, he became bored and – as puppies and toddlers are wont to do – pretty much dropped in his tracks and fell asleep.

And that’s what I intend to do as well.

(T+99)