In my last post, I said we’d been babysitting Blackie and Duke since Friday. My brain is fried (and so is the brain of the Spouse, who proof-read the post). We had Blackie and Duke from Wednesday (the 13th) until a few hours ago. After vacuuming for forever, in every room, on the stairs, in the closets, and under the bed, we have returned to the fur level of a one-dog family.
Yesterday was the hottest day on record for July 21 (by .4 of a degree, no less), and other than bathroom breaks, the dogs stayed in all day with fans and lots of water. Our Best Friend doesn’t do well without his daily dose of exercise, and kept giving me looks that alternated between baleful and pleading. Fortunately for him, when I got up this morning, the weather seemed a few degrees cooler– not comfortable, but not quite oven-hot. So, in a spur of the moment decision, I loaded all three into the van and took them to the park.
That wind tunnel I complained about so much last winter was a godsend this morning. You couldn’t venture into the sun, but if you stayed in the shade, didn’t move around, and let the wind blow in your face, you were almost comfortable. The dogs didn’t care about the heat, which I find amazing when two are black and one has malamute or husky blood in him. The ran, sniffed, cuddled other people, and pooped up a storm. There were a fair number of people for 8:00 a.m. I got greyhound cuddles and poodle hugs, and Duke made sure every human hand patted him at least once.
Our Best Friend, as always, remained apart from the other dogs. The only game he likes is chase, he has to be the chaser, and the other dog has to run by to initiate play. But this morning, something new went down. Our Best Friend looked at Duke– and ran at him. Duke bounded off. Together they raced around in circles, until OBF caught up and gave Duke a shoulder check. Then he ran on past him.
This was not Duke’s first stay with us, but OBF has never tried to play with him before. My dog is learning, not just to play, but love other dogs, to be part of the group, and to enjoy being part of it. I had actually given up hope.
At 3:30 the kids and I loaded our visitors back in the van to take them home. We left Our Best Friend at our house; he looked sad and confused when we shut the door behind us. Since we got back, he’s just lying around looking depressed. When Duke and Blackie left in the past, he seemed rather relieved to be an only dog again. Not this time.
Yesterday evening two little girls asked if they could come play with the dogs. They’re aren’t even friends of my girls; they are simply dog-deprived. They stayed two hours, throwing balls, petting them, hugging them, and, believe it or not, feeding them kibble by hand. When it was time to go, they asked when Blackie and Duke would be back again.
“Not until December,” I told them.
“So long?!” they asked, terribly disappointed. Then they started hugging and kissing them good-bye all over again
Between the socialization skills Blackie and Duke provide for Our Best Friend, and the love and joy they bring to neighbourhood kids, maybe I should encourage My Dearest Friend to go away more often.
This post is part of the Saturday Pet-Blogger Hop:
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