Dog World

Son brought Bosco Dog over Friday night to spend the weekend with Fio and Husband.  Inkspot's coat was glistening black and he was strutting with pug-nacious self-importance.  But by the time Son picks him up this evening, Sonia will have dusted him up some and cut him down to size.
*
Sonia's appetite evolved from power cords and window sills to shoes and wood carvings, then on to foot-long rawhide bones, and that's where Fio hopes it will stay for a while.  Doggie demands a new bone every day, and they're rather expensive--but less so than power cords and shoes.
*
You've never lived till you've come out of Home Depot and walked toward your car, where Husband and Doggie await, Husband in the front seat and Doggie in the back, with her big mastiff face hanging out the window, smiling at you.  If everyone were as nice as dogs, this world would be a better place.

Contagion

Husband is sick, Younger Son is sick, and Fio doesn't feel quite right.  Older Son and his wife arrived for a holiday visit, bringing their Staffordshire  to co-reside with pug Bosco and mastiff Sonya.  This could be an interesting next couple of days.  But it's nothing new--last year Older Son got pneumonia when they visited.

Hmmm. 

Pondering Sonya

Fio's power cord is safe now.  Sonya has moved on to vacuum cleaner attachments.
*
As alpha dog, Sonya bullies Bosco unmercifully, but she also depends on him for company, yelping and whining until he comes downstairs every morning.
*
We lock our big girl into her crate while we sleep, but she'd probably stay in her appointed boudoir all night even if we removed the door. It's easy to accustom animals to captivity, to get them used to being in a cage, to convince them that's where they belong.  People are like that too, but we create our own cages.

Backyard Safari

We have a hunter in the house, a mighty hunter who stalks the night, seizes his prey, and carries it off to his lair.

No, it's not Sonya, the mastiff, who has the equipment to do some mighty seizing herself, but Bosco, the pug, who last night chased down an errant frog hopping hell for leather down the backyard toward the pond.

Froggie never made it.

When Fio and Husband called Sonya and Bosco in for the night, Bosco didn't appear.  Panicked, Fiorella ran outside into the darkness and checked the gate to the yard to be sure it was locked while  Husband grabbed two big flashlights.  Sonya started barking at the narrow area between the barbecue and the fence, Bosco's favorite hidey hole, so Husband shone the light down into the darkness.  Sure enough, there was Bosco, growling fiercely, with a dead frog hanging from his mouth. 

Oh, yuck.

Fiorella took over the flashlights while Husband began poking at Bosco with a metal leaf broom to get him to give up his prey.  Sonya, of course, barked the whole time--she wanted the frog.  

The story ended happily.  Husband pried Bosco out of his den and flipped Froggie out of the yard, and Fio herded both dogs back into the house for the night.

But Bosco strutted.

Acting Like a Dog

My name is Sonya Wendysdottir and I am a hoarder.  I've turned the area beneath my princess bed into a boneyard, and every time little Bosco latches onto a bone, I take it from him.  When I eat, I drop my current bone beside the feeding dish so I can keep an eye on it.  When Mommy gives Bosco and me each a bone, I drop mine, grab his, and stand guard over both of them.

I act the same way with toys. And with people, shoving Bosco out of the way if Mommy and Daddy try to pet him.

I am Sonya.  I am alpha.  You won't hear me roar, but I do covet.

Puppy Tails

When it comes to doting mothers, Fiorella takes the cake. No one else's babies were as beautiful as hers, as smart, as cuddly. And she's the same with her puppy. Sonya is the most darling doggie every created, a deserving successor to Wendy the Wonder Dog. In fact, Fio considers Wendy to be Sonya's spiritual mother. Thus, in the Icelandic tradition, Puppy's full name is Sonya Wendysdottir.

Sonya is beginning to adjust to her new circumstances. Fiorella tried to teach her how to descend and climb the stairs for a 2:00 a.m. pottie call--didn't quite make it--and Husband stayed home to take her to the vet in the morning. When they came back, Fio's job was getting a couple of pills down her puppy throat (accomplished with coatings of butter) and acting as a bolster for her long afternoon nap.

Even Bosco is helping. Sonya had been turning her nose up at the prescribed puppy food until her pal showed an interest in it. Then she gobbled it down. Nothing like a little competition.

Canine Messages

Fiorella was touched when the dogs rushed into the bedroom this morning to inquire after her health. As she lay in bed with a hot water bottle clutched to her degenerate hip, sweet, faithful Wendy stood beside the bed and licked her hand, while bouncy Bosco, Younger Son's little black bowling ball of a Pug, was so desperate to greet Fio that he backed up a couple of yards, gained speed, and made a flying leap up onto the bed.

How sweet. Fiorella's grandpuppy loves her.

Half an hour later, when Fio got out of bed, she discovered he'd also left more personal remembrances--in the bathroom and utility room, and on the antique Persian carpet beside the bed.

Playtime

Wendy has finally learned how to play with another dog.

Younger Son brought his one-year-old pug, Bosco, with him when he moved back in. Having a second dog around all the time was a difficult adjustment for Wendy, who has always been an only child, especially since the little guy wanted our ten-year-old couch potato to be more active. It took a while, but yesterday Fiorella was thrilled to see the two of them grab hold of a rope from opposite ends and tug on it back and forth.

Today they're barking like crazy and racing around the room playing tag.

Fiorella is less thrilled with this development.