Me: Get back here, you miserable object!
The dog attempted to giggle with a mouthful of rocks. UNNGH, the last time we got caught in this predicament that blasted canine busted out a baby tooth by chewing on the granite.
Me, attempting to be calm: Drop. It.
She gazed up at me, faked left and sprinted right.
Me, digging into a pocket for the last few bits of kibble on my person: R_____, come!
For all that dog is food motivated, I swear she’s more into causing chaos than consuming calories. She ignored the recall.
Honestly, I do not remember if Miss M had these issues at her age (five months) or not, but gads. I also know we’re not supposed to do recall if it’s clear you’re going to fail, but dammit, a mouthful of rocks while running at top speed round and round the lawn?
Cat, only half interested: You took that canine first aid class, right? They taught you the Heimlich Maneuver on dogs? Five’ll get you ten that rock’s going down her windpipe.
Me: Not. Helpful.
Cat, hopping down from her perch onto the grass: Whatever. Just remember she was licking her bits a few moments ago when you give her mouth to mouth.
With that, the cat caught the dog’s eye, grinned broadly and feigned a limp.
Oh, gawd damn it.
R____ spotted MaeMae (the cat) and changed direction mid-sprint. In so doing, her head overtook her front paws and she went arse over tit.
I love this dog, but sometimes I wonder about her.
Barely breaking stride, the dog roared after the cat, who miraculously recovered from her mysterious ailment and, despite her smaller size, easily outpaced the hound, disappearing beyond the fence.
One day, the dog will realize she can jump. Thankfully, still sucking rocks (literally and figuratively) today was not that day.
The other thing we were up to lately – going to a race horse sanctuary where they rehabilitate and rehome retired or unsuccessful purebred racehorses.
This was kind of amazing because there were a LOT of guide dog puppies who came. Ol’ R____ was accompanied by three siblings as well as a bunch of other puppies.
To maintain anonymity, I’m not supposed to identify the dogs by name, but I can’t really identify her siblings the way I usually identify dogs because, well, they were the R litter.
So it was R1, R2, R3 and R4 were there and R5 wasn’t able to come. R1 (our blondie girl), R2 (her blackie sister), R3 (local blackie brother) and R4 (second blackie brother) all got to see each other for the first time in a while. R1, R2 and R3 have seen each other because we’re all in the same local group, and they went to puppy K together.
R4 lives not far away but is in a different local group, but we see him occasionally. Sadly, R5 couldn’t make it, he lives further away.
All the dogs had fun with the goats… R1 liked them the best.
R1: That is one weird looking cat
R2, rolling eyes: Not a cat Goat Don’t you listen
R3, sprinting past: I’m-a gonna go see the giant… giant… thingamegogger
R1: does it scratch
Goat: Got any food?
R1: What
Goat: Food! Food! You got any food?
R1: I eat what mommy gives me
Goat: A shoe would be good. Get your person to drop a shoe, but only a quality one. Haven’t had me some good shoe leather for years. They’re all that plastic shit nowadays.
R1, backing away slowly: I go now
We met the horses next. I only came up to the shoulders of a couple, their heads soaring above mine like bizarrely colored giraffes with really thick necks. I was sorry I didn’t think to bring apple slices, but then, maybe they wouldn’t be allowed.
Some were quite friendly, others standoffish, but when you figure they managed to avoid the glue factory or worse, you really cut them some slack. One of the Southern California racetracks has a horrible record of having to euthanize horses, so I think these equines are insanely lucky to be where they are.
One got nose to nose with Posey. Tonks the horse blew out air at the pupper.
R1: what the heck
Tonks: Hey man
R1: why you blow at me
Tonks: Just saying hello.
R1: weird customs you have here
The puppies were then put in the arena and went up to meet two miniature horses and a large horse.
R1: I can wait
R2: I’m gonna go see a little one
R4: They don’t scare me I’m going to the big guy
R3: wait for me
After R2 went up, R1 decided it was okay… but didn’t quite get the whole “when in Rome” thing.
R1, sniffing the horse’s butt: um… hello
Mini horse: what the frick you doin’ around my back end?!!
Wham shot out his back leg in a fierce kick. Fortunately R1 has good reflexes and leapt out of the way.
Me: honey, you don’t sniff butts with horses.
R1: nobody told me that
Me: Well, now you know, no butt sniffing.
R1: how do they identify each other
Me: sight?
R1: well that’s stoopid
Meeting the big horse took some effort. She needed her paw pad for some reassurance, which was fine, although it was a borrowed one from the group leader (we didn’t think to bring ours).
Finally, the dogs got to experience the horses running in the arena. That nearly caused a riot.
R1, and a number of other dogs, reacted to the running…
The following morning, whew…
MaeMae (the cat): holy god. Did you roll in road apples?!
Puppy: No apple trees Lot of horse poop though
That didn’t last long. I swear she grumbled at me when I put her in the bath.
Examining Misadventures 