My biglittle mutant puppy, terrified of swimming though he may be, has no fear of the stock tank and hops in and out at will. It’s probably a good 3 feet high and he just hurls himself in from a standstill on the ground – doesn’t use the step, and doesn’t bother taking polite sips of water from the outside. He just bounces, bounces out, bounces in, bounces out. Etc.
Sorry for the poor quality, but it was our before-bed walk and getting darkish out, and I had the wrong lens for the light. But I was so tickled by his little routine.
The other dogs think he’s crazy, as they are not even slightly interested in getting in the stock tank, no matter how hot they may be.
Dex has also dialed down his pervy love for Waggie Maggie and it’s settled into a kind of friendship instead of a gang bang. He’s no longer trying to hump her head or any other reachable part of her body, and when she gets tired of his attentions, she sits on his neck and bites him ferociously in the face, or pins him to the ground by standing on his giant ears. And he, of course, just lays there blissfully with the dreamiest expression on his face. It’s pathetic. She’s half the size he is, and he’s half the man he should be!
Having discovered her Inner Female Warrior, Mags is also no longer tolerating TWooie’s bad-assedness. When he comes flying across the lawn airsnapping at her, she stands there and looks at him like he’s a maggot in her salad.
And in another TWooie Accomplishment update, I am proud to say that the meatball can now catch cookies. When I first got him, if you tried to toss food at him he cringed and ran away, assuming you were trying to crush him with a boulder, not trying to feed him. Several weeks of nightly random popcorn tossing later, he would watch it sail through the air and then pounce on it when it hit the floor. Now he can catch it about 80% of the time. It’s a small thing that is actually a huge achievement for the TWoo. What did people do to this poor dog anyway?
Maggie came with several toys, which the resident dogs have shamelessly claimed as their own.
All in all, she fits in very well here. Oh how I wish having 6 dogs was not, you know, INSANE (because 5 is so much saner). Someone is going to be very very lucky to get this little package of beans. She is such a delight, and I will miss her when she goes.
Still no word on the POS Pontiac from its deathbed. I talked to the mechanic yesterday when I stopped by to grab some Very Important Stuff out of the van (ie my cleats for agility class) while I still had Joe’s (dent-free AHEM) car and he was looking at the engine and listening to the Thunkity thunkity noises with a big grey cloud of doom hanging over his head. Basically, if the problem is in the top of the engine, it’s repairable for a reasonable sum. If it’s in the bottom of the engine, the repair would cost more than the whole vehicle is worth.