The doggie life

I got dumped on my butt again this afternoon.  I can tell you one thing:  Scrappy dumped me on my butt about once every two years, usually while making our first springtime inspection of The Green Hole.  Misty has probably topped the total in just the few weeks that we've had her.  At least three times, it's been while we play "don't eat the peg" in the back yard.  She's adopted a plastic stake outside as a 'keep away from daddy' toy.  We chase each other around- she always wins-and I typically hit a mud slick just right.  Today, I had the stake and she basically hip checked me, just enough to send my trailing foot sliding, and once it starts, it's over.

Yesterday, it was a combination of mud, a leash belt that was either mishooked or loosened as she spun me in circles barking at a girl and her two dogs, and the ever-present mud.  The belt came loose from me, I tried to reach for her leash, and there goes that trailing foot again.  To her credit, even though the whole thing was caused by her desperation to see the doggies, she went NOWHERE.  Just looked at me until I had my wits back together, grabbed her leash, and attempted re-hooking.

A few times, it's been her amazing excitement over snow.  She runs like a madman (or woman), stops, grabs a bite of snow from at least an inch below the surface like most dogs would snap at a juicy steak, and shoots off like it was an Underdog super-energy pill.  The first good snow, our first walk was a lot like water skiing for me.

Waiting for permission to grab the piece of BabyBel

I admit that we are still trying to build our relationship.  Don't get me wrong:  we're constant companions, love each other dearly.  But... Me and Scrappy had become 'same person: dog version, human version'.  That took 10 years.  It takes time.

And... well, she's a girl.  That means, a lot of either yeah, not interested, or I want attention NOW.

Scrappy was like me, old and set in his ways.  You could set a clock by his idiosyncrasies.  I never know what's next with her.  Her way of saying, "There's people outside that you should look into," "I want some of that attention NOW", and "I really need to go out and relieve myself" are virtually indistinguishable.  Last night, she got bored with me and went upstairs.  After a few minutes, I called out, "Misty!" What are you up to?"  She runs down and right up to me.

Cue five minutes of barking at me.  Well, maybe not five, but certainly until I got up and chased her around.

One look at the slobber on my legs tells one, Misty is one of the sloppiest eaters I've ever met.  Worse than me!

Right now, she's midway between "I am about ready to come get some attention" and, "Y'know, that game kinda wore me out."  She has a really funny way of doing things.  A walk that wouldn't have fazed Scrappy overmuch will leave her willing to settle for a more sedate night the next day. Of course, Scrappy burned of the "all-outs" after about a hundred feet, where Misty is 'all engines full' for better than a mile.  She might eat her food over the course of an entire day, unlike our former "moo pig". Then suddenly, after eating  a few mouthfuls, she becomes, "Spasmodico, Doggie of Doom", and tears through the house looking a lot like Ryan Newman last night.


Well, she's been patient, so I better get this wrapped up so I can be ready for the next wave of destruction- or just pay her some mind before she gets moody.  Because, she's... well, she's Misty.