Monday, December 19, 2011

Coming Home

I came home to the customary shindig the dogs put on at my arrival.  Nuzzling whirling, wagging, whining joy.  Their pleasure is welcome, some of it always spilling over to me.

A couple days ago I was in the basement preparing to train.  The dogs had followed me down the stairs and were milling about.  On impulse, I grabbed a stuffed Curious George off the pile of stuffed animals (collected for this very purpose) and gave it to Mak who, shocked with glee, lept at it then scooted up the stairs ears pinned back in pleasure.  Ty got a Santa Clause and as I began warming up I could here rending fabric - a sound that never ceases to make me laugh.  Ty loves shredding plush toys, Mak less so.  So Curious G. remained intact.

As the dogs whirled around me at the front door I spotted, then scooped, C. George and wiggled him at Mak.  He pounced then began leaping on and off the couch with the prize that had been sitting on the floor for days.  Ty spotted Mak's treasure and tried to clamp down but Mak teased and avoided.  When Ty managed to  locked his old chompers on George there was a quick jerk and puffs of stuffing flew everywhere.  Each had half.  Ty flapped his ears and in doing so loosened his grip.Half of C. George spun through the air and landed four feet away - instantly forgotten, later shredded.
Is there any better way to come home?  Okay, maybe a naked athlete of the opposite gender but unless the wood stove is lit, that'd be downright chilly.

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