Dear Kid,

“Grab the dog!”

I am sitting on the ground having a particularly unpleasant argument with a weed about its eviction notice. Booker is near me introducing himself to a worm I uncovered for him. The worm is silent. Booker licks it.

When Dad yells, I dive for the puppy, grabbing his collar and holding on. Think tackling a receiver just before a spectacular diving touch down. Booker ignores me and paws the worm.

A coyote runs across our property, takes a hard left at the water meter, and dashes down the front lawn and across the street, disappearing into the neighbor’s backyard.

I let go of Booker who carefully picks up the worm and trots a few feet away to play with his new friend.

It takes about 3 seconds for him to register Scent of Coyote.

Then all smell breaks loose. The worm is completely ignored (you’re definitely going to want to tune in tomorrow for the second worm story).

Booker dashes around in circles, then backtracks the scent. Dad thinks this is hilarious since the puppy is going the wrong way.

Then, carefully covering the ground in a slight zigzag pattern, Booker begins to follow his nose. Which leads him across our lawn, takes a hard left at the water meter, and pulls him across the street and into the neighbor’s backyard. His nose picks up speed as it goes, so by the time he disappears those little legs are moving at the Speed of the Chase.

Coyotes are not known for playing nicely with small doggies.

Dad heads across the street and to retrieve the pup. After a few minutes, Booker trots back looking prouder of himself than the time he rolled in a dead bird. He did not catch the coyote, but he caught the scent which apparently is good enough for him.

The coyote is presumably doing coyote things that hopefully do not involve small dogs in the neighborhood. The worm is presumably happily enjoying his new location on our lawn (you really are going to want to hear tomorrow’s worm story). Booker’s nose is taking a well-deserved nap. So is the rest of him. The garden still has plenty of weeds, but fewer than it did yesterday.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Me: Time for a walk
Puppy: Yay! I love walks….wait, it’s raining.
Me: Yup.
Puppy: A lot.
Me: Yup. Come on.
Puppy: I am not a water dog.
Me: I understand.
Puppy: I am not happy about this situation.
Me: It’s just rain.
Puppy: I will walk under the umbrella with you.
Me: You are a spoiled puppy.

Puppy: Want to play?
Me: Sure bring me a toy.
Puppy: I’m chewing on the toy.
Me: I can’t throw it for you if you don’t bring it to me.
Puppy: It’s important chewing.
Me: OK. I have other things to do.
Puppy: Why don’t you want to play with me?

Me: Stop poking me please.
Puppy: Scratch my head.
Me: I’m eating dinner.
Puppy: You finished a while ago.
Me: I’m still at the table….please stop poking me.
Puppy: Scratch my head?
Me: You’re very sweet, but I’m at the table.
Puppy: Please?
Me: Are you going to keep poking me?
Puppy: Not if you scratch my head.

Puppy: Want to see my tummy?
Me: Sure….oh, that’s a very nice tummy.
Puppy: How about you rub my tummy?
Me: I’m sitting in the chair.
Puppy: So?
Me: You’re way down there on the floor.
Puppy: uh, huh.
Me: I can’t reach your tummy.
Puppy: You can come down here.
Me: Not right now.
Puppy: But it’s my TUMMY and it needs to be rubbed.

Puppy: What are you doing?
Me: Planting seeds.
Puppy: No, you’re digging.
Me: Well, yes, to plant the seeds.
Puppy: I’m not supposed to dig.
Me: You don’t plant seeds.
Puppy: Want some help?
Me: Well, sure.
Puppy (sniffs): Smells like dirt. I’m going to take a nap in the sun. Let me know if you need more help.

Puppy: THERE IS AN INTRUDER!
Me: I heard the doorbell, thank you.
Puppy: ALERT! ALERT! DON’T WORRY, MOM! I GOT THIS! LEMME AT ‘EM!
Me: It’s just a delivery.
Puppy: IT’S AN OUTSIDER! I’LL RIP HIM APART! I’LL PROTECT YOU! DON’T WORRY! ALERT! ALERT!
Me: Really, baby, it’s ok.
Puppy: I AM A HUGE PACK OF RABID DOGS! I WILL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!
Me: You are a small puppy who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Say hello nicely.
Puppy: Hello new person. Want to see my toy?

Love, Mom

See Puppy Conversations and More Puppy Conversations

Dear Kid,

Puppy: It’s time to get up
Me: I am up
Puppy: You’re lying on the floor
Me: I’m snuggling you
Puppy: But it’s time to get up!
Me: I’m very comfortable
Puppy: Up, up, up!
Me: Ok, ok. I’m getting up
Puppy: You don’t want to snuggle me?

Puppy: What are you getting out of the cabinet?
Me: A container for my lunch
Puppy: What else are you getting out of the cabinet?
Me: Not sure I’m getting anything else out
Puppy: There are treats in that cabinet
Me: Hmmm, there certainly are
Puppy: I thought you might have forgotten
Me: I haven’t forgotten
Puppy: So……
Me: Do you need a treat?
Puppy: Well, I wouldn’t say no
Me: Here you go
Puppy: Look how nicely I’m taking this.
Me: Yes, you are a very good boy.
Puppy: Good enough for another treat?

Puppy: Mom
Me: Yes, sweetie
Puppy: Mom, Mom, Mom
Me: Yes, sweetie, what do you need?
Puppy: Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom
Me: I’m right here. What do you need?
Puppy: There are noodles on the counter
Me: Yes, there are
Puppy: I can smell them
Me: I’m sure you can
Puppy: Can I have some?
Me: No, they are not for you.
Puppy: Please?
Me: No.
Puppy: Please, please, please, please, please. I love noodles. I love noodles.
Me: I know you do. But they’re not for you.
Puppy: Come with me, I’ll show you
Me: You don’t have to show me
Puppy: But I LOOOOOOVE noodles.
Me: You love all food. This is not for you.
Puppy: This is my sad face.

Me: Come over here, Puppy. Time to cut your nails.
Puppy: Nah, I’m good, thanks
Me: Come on over, sweetie.
Puppy: I’m very busy not going over there.
Me: I have treats
Puppy: Huh?
Me: I have the Really Good treats
Puppy: They smell so good!!!!!!
Me: You get one if you come over here
Puppy: Well, I might have a minute

Puppy: Mom!
Me: Mmmm?
Puppy: I smell Spring!
Me: You do?
Puppy: Yes, and I rolled in it just for you!
Me (pause): Oh, honey. That is Definitely Not the smell of spring.

Off to Bath Time.

Love, Mom

See more Puppy Conversations

Dear Kid,

Your canine cousin, Anakin, is having a Terrible Trouble. Anakin (as you know) is a puppy Auntie M and Uncle Sean are raising for the wonderful people at Guiding Eyes for the Blind. Poor Anakin is having his Terrible Trouble with The Other Puppy In The House. You know about the other puppy–the one who approaches when Anakin approaches, and who lifts his paw when Anakin lifts his, and lies down when Anakin lies down, but never comes closer than nose to nose and Just Won’t Play.

It’s all very sad and frustrating.

I have no words of wisdom for Auntie M because Booker never had this problem (what with his microscopic legs and all the mirrors on the first floor of our house being above Booker level). I’m not entirely sure what he thinks when he sees another dog being held in someone’s (my) arms. But since he’s also being cuddled, he’s never objected.

Often, when I have nothing pertinent to say, I’ll opt for cheerful irrelevance, which is what I’m doing today.

I have collected 6 Fun Animal Facts that will hopefully cheer you up even if they don’t cheer up Anakin.

1. A group of flamingos is called a flamboyance. So is a large shoe collection. Not naming names.
2. Worms communicate by snuggling. This is how mud-wrestling was originally invented.
3. Rats giggle when you tickle them. Their laugh is so high pitched you need special equipment to hear it. Like teenage girls.
4. Male puppies, when playing with female puppies, will intentionally let the female win. Male puppies are not stupid. Of course, what’s really happening is the female puppies are letting the male puppies think they’re letting the females win.
5. A group of porcupines is called a prickle. How perfect is that?
6. Baby puffins are called pufflings. Too cute.

Hope your mirror, mirror on the wall predicts a wonderful day.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Me (drying Booker’s feet): You owe Dad an apology.
Booker (lifting his right front paw): What for?
Me: For waking him.
Booker: Did not. He was going to get up to watch Olympic hockey.
Me: Nonetheless, you owe him an apology.
Booker: He yells louder at the TV!
Me: This foot please. You need to apologize.
Booker (confounded and frustrated): The house, maybe the entire Universe, was under threat of imminent attack!

Previously:

Half an hour earlier, there were four deer on our front lawn. Big deer. Really big deer. Booker sprang into action. And by “sprang” I mean “exploded.”

He barked. He yipped. He made sounds a dog five times his size would envy. He jumped. He shook. He tried to claw his way through the dining room windows to get to the deer. He made more noise than an entire pack of trained hunting dogs could make. I thought he was going to expel a kidney.

Synchronized deer turned their heads to stare (ooh! New Olympic sport: synchronized skiing!). They seemed slightly curious about all the mayhem but basically unimpressed.

Booker raced from window to window giving the impression an entire battalion was arming itself for an assault.

The look on the largest deer’s face clearly said, “Seriously little dude?” After a few minutes, the pack moved off down the street.

Booker upped the volume (which I didn’t think was possible). The commotion registered a 3.4 on the Richter scale.

I finally got a leash on him and we went out for our morning walk. By which I mean I walked, he pulled on the leash and tried to track the deer. This involved a good deal of Serious Staring, Sniffing, and Surveying and did not involve actual Deer Sighting. (The deer may be condescending, but they are not stupid.)

Which brings me back to our conversation.

Me: You owe Dad an apology for waking him. (And the entire Tri State area.)
Booker: I was protecting the house.
Me: The house is fine.
Booker: It is now.
Me: The deer were not interested in the house. You owe Dad an apology.
Booker: I protected all the bulbs you planted last fall.

Pause.

Booker got a few extra bits of kibble in his breakfast.

Hope you don’t need to defend your territory as ferociously today.

Love, Mom

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Dear Kid,

Being the kind of great mom that I am, I decided to play with Booker a little bit this morning.

“Come here, baby,” I called to him. Ever hopeful that there might be food involved, he trotted over to see what I wanted.

“Want to play?” I asked him. He stuck his head in my lap so I could easily scratch the back of his neck. I obliged and asked again, “Do you want to play?” He nudged my hand in a gentle rebuke that I had neglected scratching duties. I scratched.

After a minute or two, I grabbed a toy out of his bin. ‘Oh, boy!’ I could hear his brain cells say, ‘It’s my toy!’

I threw the toy across the room and he went scampering after it. It’s not an enormous room but when you have little bitty midget dachshund legs, there is plenty of room to scamper. He pounced on the toy with glee, gave me a look to say ‘Thanks, Mom!’ and lay down to chew on the toy.

“Bring it here, Booker,” I called, “Come on baby.” Important chewing continued.

I coaxed. He chewed.

I finally pulled another toy out of the bin. “Look what I have,” I sang. His head popped up. Another toy, oh boy! He came running over. “I need the toy,” I told him. He looked at the one in my hand to explain that I had the toy. “No goofy,” I said, “the one over there.” And I pointed across the room. He looked hopefully at the one I was holding. “Go get the other toy,” I said and pointed again. After a minute, he resigned himself to getting the first toy with a set of his face that clearly said, “You could probably have gotten it yourself and if I were a teenager, you can bet I’d be rolling my eyes.”

Once he brought it back, I threw the second toy. Being well trained, I pulled another toy out of the bin. He promptly brought me toy #2 and I threw toy #3. When he brought that back I threw toy #1 toward the front door. Booker went skidding across the wood floor, screeching to a halt at the last minute. He picked up the toy, and trotted back (via the carpet route). He looked to see if I had something to trade for the toy in his mouth. When he saw I did, he dropped his and waited for the throw.

Scamper, retrieve, throw another toy. Repeat.

After we’d done this about 6 times, he sat down smack in the middle of the room, dropped the toy, and scratched his ear. He enjoyed that so much he scratched the other side.

Done scratching, he picked up his toy, gave me a look, and trotted over to the window (toy in mouth) to see what was going on in the world. I was not forgotten, I was ignored. I think he’s been taking lessons in How to Snub Humans from a cat somewhere.

I got up to go see about breakfast.

Eventually he came looking for me with a wounded expression that said, “I was just looking outside for a minute—where did you go???”

I got the last word (so to speak)–I left out all his toys. He’ll have to clean them up later. Assuming no one trips over them in the meantime.

I’m off to put some of my own toys away.

Love, Mom

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