Wait … what?
Yeah, why am I bragging about that anyway? It must be a form of insanity. The same insanity that whispered in my ear that 8 dogs wasn’t a big deal, for a couple of days. I don’t think these voices have my best interests at heart!
Race, of course, is the 5 month old brother to Jazz (nee Jess), a border collie X Aussie who decided to dress in browns instead of blues.
Cute huh? Don’t be fooled – much like his sister, Race comes from Hell ;-) He’s bossy, loud and busy. He already has no use for me (damn independent Aussies!) because I’m always yelling “NO! Don’t eat the screen door!” and “NO, put down those shoes!” and “NO! Don’t eat my coffee table!” and he’s only been here for 2 hours. He’s a going concern, but a really neat little guy. I have always wanted another Tweed, and for a short while I indulged in fantasies like “What if I hadn’t adopted Dexter the Giraffe, and had room for another pup?” but now I indulge in fantasies like “I wonder how fast I could drive him to another foster home if I had a space rocket?”
Twist, at 7 months, is an interesting blend of a BC X Aussie mother, and a Catahoula mix daddy-o. She is long and houndy looking, but much more velcro than Race. She likes to hang out near me, and follow me on walks rather than just wander off giving me the paw, unlike SOME puppies that just arrived ;-) She’s very sweet natured, soft and pliable. Me likey her sweetness already.
Sorry Tweedums, couldn’t be helped. I promise to offload them real soon-like.
Interestingly, TWooie has NOT tried to kill them, not even once. I crated him in the house when they first arrived, and let all the other dogs come outside to meet them first. Then I brought everyone into the house, uncrated TWoo and immediately left again with all 8 of them for a walk on the property. I believe TWooie now thinks they are the Harbingers Of Walkies And Hunting so he has generously allowed them to live. He’s asleep under the dining room table while they roam my house looking for stuff to destroy, and is bothered not a whit! It’s a bloody miracle.
Don’t mind Mr. Sourpuss. He’s just upset because when he stuck his nose in the puppies’ bag o’ stuff that came down with them, Race bit him in the nose.
Dexter is in love with Twist. Megan took a shine to Race right away. The puppy love going on in my house is nauseating. Also, the jealous tantrums are about to start, because Race and Twist like each other better than they like Dex and Megan. It’s going to be a cheezy afternoon talk show soon, with accusations and secret love affairs being exposed all over the place.
Since moving out here to the sticks, it’s been harder and harder to interest Wootie in playing with toys. I guess when we lived in the city and went to the dog park, he was bored and had nothing else to do, so consented to playing with the Wootie Toy© or Fifa. But now all he wants to do is hunt rats and rabbits, or the occasional frog or grasshopper. Of all my dogs, I do believe Wootie would be the first to successfully go feral if I died in my sleep tonight. TWooie’d be right behind him. The other dogs would probably starve, or just move in with my neighbours.
Speaking of which, I’ve put some puppies in crates for a nap. Time to go make some calls and figure out where they’re going to go, and when!