This means the neighbor pups were invited over to play. So I'm sitting on 2 feet of the futon with a pit bull alpha battling the resident "alpha" two year old Aussie cattle dog mix. He tries to herd her, she tries to sit next to me on the sofa. Eventually (in an hour or so) they'll modify it so they're both napping together, with the pit bull in alpha position with her head in my lap. Next door sitting on the furniture is a privilege the dogs don't have, so when they come over to the rehab house, they revel in furniture sitting, dog treats, and my cooking. There is much battling for primo furniture/lap sitting.
Pit bulls have HUGE jaws, by the way, and I'm glad they play so nicely together. One time my shin bone ended up in the middle of this melee (I had to cross the box farm) and ouch! Fortunately the dogs understand yelping and whimpering and were rather apologetic that I'd been grabbed by accident and enthusiasm. I have a bolster pillow protecting my leg/arm and laptop.
Bomb girl is currently on her back, with Spot half-on, half-off the sofa. Oooh! It looks like Bomb girl has won. Spot abandoned ship for chasing Dede in the back yard. Dede is too small to wrestle, but she loves to play tag. Jack Russel Terriers are fast, amazingly so, talk about an agility course dog if I ever met one. These dogs are just too damn smart. These are the strays that were smart and savvy enough to find a home that loved them; they're some of the happiest dogs I know on this continent. They get to run and play and be dogs, with all the love and dog chow and medical care they need. They wander to M's house, and then they just stay. They have some bad habits.
They're scared that one day there will be no more food. One of them trembles and shivers if you raise your voice or stomp your feet. They all want endless love, and are quick to learn commands. They are dogs who know that some humans are love. These dogs are too smart; they could all jump the fence and leave, but refuse to. They know who their humans are. They take great care of their humans, in spite of sloth claws, dog nose bruises, and ouch. That was just a pitbull sloth claw to the breast. Eeeeyouch. Spot decided that trying to crawl over Bomb girl and onto my already-laptop occupied lap was a great idea. No, not so much.
He's too tired to mess with her though. Dede's trying to lure Bomb girl into the back yard and convince her to abandon me on the sofa so that she can take the primo sweet spot on my lap. None of them are laptop sized, but they sure as hell don't think so.
I've been in love with dooce.com's Chuckacabra/Chuck/Chuckles for years (since France, 2004) and having real dog love affairs is much more rewarding than the electronic version, I must confess.
I'm also writing about dogs today so that I don't write about Sarah Palin. EEEsh. Talk about sick to my stomach, and haven't even watched the interviews or the SNL sketch. I don't want to lose my lunch/dinner, especially not with the H20 off -- new bathroom sink installation. Rehabbers have more fun! (The Brita is full and the neighbors' water is on.
We're all violently fine here. Violently fine. Violently pretending to be fine. Closer to fine. Closer to fine. Closer to fine.