SPAZZTASTIC

It's time to switch gears and go back to happy postings. I can only keep those Japanese whalers at the top of the page for so long before I get utterly sick of seeing them every time I click on this page. And so, because I want to see something new here, begins another post.

Check out our dogs. Our dogs, in the car. In the car, after a trip to the dog park. Even though this picture's a month old it's still good. I like their smiles. Indy's mouth looks like it's a big hunk of cooked ham if you blur your eyes. That's my dog! The one with the hammy face!

Tonight as we walked into the grocery store to get some ingredients for an impromptu taco night(TM), we saw a family in the parking lot with a dog. The dog was sitting outside of the backdoor of the car, and people were petting it and talking. It looked like a nice dog-- some kind of lab/springer mix from the looks of it. What struck us was how CALM that dog was. There was no crazy pulling or choking breathing, no crazed eyes and skittering claws. Just sitting. Calm, content sitting. I was immediately jealous.

Dogs have personality types, and we have two complete spazzes. We just need to accept the fact that all the corrections in the world won't train the spazz out of them.
(Two bad dogs = one crate. You'd think that would show 'em. NO. Not a chance in hell.)

They're never going to be those laid-back, mellow dogs who just seem to enjoy watching the world go by. They're just very happy dogs, and they get so damn excited about anything we do; they're not going to just sit there and wag their tails when we so much as touch the leashes. Nope. They're going to pant and slide around and do giddy little hops. And making them SIT doesn't help. They'll sit, but they will then start to whine. And jump back up the first chance they get.

Get them in the car, and it's the same thing. We restrain them in the back of Greg's car, but it doesn't make them calm down at all. They will whine and cry the entire car ride. It is annoying as hell, but I admit it also makes me giggle and smile a whole lot. It just sounds so funny-- all this ridiculous whining and panting just filling the car and drowning out the radio. What do they have to whine about? Where is the injustice? They are going FOR A RIDE. The ultimate of ultimates for a dog. They're happy! But why do they have to be SOHAPPYTHEYCAN'TSTANDITOHMYGOD??!!

All this being said, going to the dog park is so good for them. They burn off that nutsy energy and run themselves down to a crawl. They socialize very well, and behave themselves (no fighting or humping). And that lovely moment when we load them back into the car is great. They sit quietly, breathing heavily and NOT whining for the entire ride back home. They become the dogs we always wanted. They look like that picture at the top of that page. Sweetness.
(There they are, being good at the dog park as they run through some tunnels. Lucky for them, too, because if they were behaving badly, I'd punch them good and hard, right in their faces.)

At the other end of the pendulum swings lonely, well-behaved Malcolm.
("I grow weary of life with these bumbling idiots...SIGH...")

He's lonely because he is the only calm, collected dog in the entire family. He has quite a burden to bear, being the only good dog. He needs to deal with these lumbering, whining goons every single day of his liver-spotted life. I swear we can hear his exasperated sighs every so often. It's a miracle he hasn't figured out a way to poison them... just enough to slow them down so he can hear himself think. A dog like him has a lot to think about.

If you don't believe me, you should come to our house and see for yourself how pensive and intelligent those cloudy eyes are. Don't let the elderly, stiff-jointed facade fool you. He's very close to figuring it all out. What is "it", you wonder? Well, I don't know what "it" is either, but I do know it's going to be one hell of an "it." One doesn't outwit death and live longer than most people without having a shitload of tricks up his sleeve.

OK, that does it. I have to go smoosh that dog and give him kisses on his little peach-head. I'll just kick the other two buffoons out of the way (like I always do...kicking dogs is SO MUCH FUN) and go find my little Boo Radley now. Thank God for one quiet, calm, smart dog!. I would be lost without Malcolm...

And so would the rest of the human race. BELIEVE IT.
Sure, they're bigger, but who did you think REALLY runs the house? Yeah, that's right. Front and center, Alpha Dog!