Give one dog a bone = happy dog.
Give two dogs one bone = garden warfare. My fault! But the consequences were quite interesting:
Bertie Baggins knew not what a marrow bone was.
Something smelt interesting, but the butcher's plastic bag was a bit worrying - in a crinkly, why is that being shoved in my face sort of way.
As for Four-legged-friend - he smelt the smell and his rear-end took on an entire life of its own, one that could only be done full justice to by the attachment of a kilt: he could barely stand, it was swaying so frantically (dog kilts - probably do exist, but why put your dog in clothes at all? They're covered in hair. It keeps them warm. They moult several tog values all over the house when the seasons change. They don't need clothes and Four-legged-friend would be confused and stressed if made to wear anything other than his collar - the only kilt he'll ever wear is the one animated onto a photograph ... the photograph inside my head - the one that's making me smile :-) ).
From swinging kilts back to bones ... since Bertie Baggins arrived, he has used his 'wits' to help himself to the warmest spot in the kitchen; to sit in the centre of the remaining unshredded dog bed; to take his uncle's bigger crate (during the day only) and generally, to calmly assert his position as future pack-leader. Four-legged-friend doesn't appear to be remotely bothered. FLF is probably a dog of little brain. FLF is a gentle giant. But put a bone between our gentle, black giant and his little golden nephew and Beauty becomes a snarling Beast. Dog morphs into bear.
At about this point, Bertie Baggins realised that there was something about this bone thing, other than the smell - something that meant excitement. And competition.
As FLF collapsed to the ground, bone between his front paws, Bertie Baggins commenced a frankly distracting, bouncing dance. FLF never bounces; he seldom even jumps, but when he does it is horse-jumping-over-fence like - coiled power driving upwards from his hips, front paws in the air. Bertie Baggins springs ... on all fours. Sorry, but I'm back to animation again - his bounce is so fast that it looks almost as though four rockets have simultaneously exploded beneath his paws forcing him vertically into the air, while his body remains parallel with the ground. The only other time he does this, is when I get home from work and go to release the dogs from their run. So far, he hasn't realised that he easily achieves sufficient height to leap over the fence - luckily, he hasn't discovered that momentum is also possible in a forward direction.
Anyway, he obviously wasn't too sure about the snarling-big-friend-interesting-smell situation, so took to doing mini-springs in a circle round FLF, which was fine - until FLF moved. And Bertie Baggins landed on his back. Perhaps the back straddling was pre-meditated - it certainly resulted in a swift change in ownership of the bone. FLF opened his mouth to protest; the bone dropped onto the grass; Bertie Baggins snatched it and ran. FLF made to follow ... and I guess things could have turned nasty, had I not produced a second, larger marrow bone from the bag.
The moral of this tale - when faced with two males who both think themselves alpha, treat them both.
The solution - give two dogs two bones (obvious really!).
The result - big bear tries to fit them both in his mouth. Realises they don't fit. Gives up. Helps himself to the biggest one (he is alpha after all!). Bertie Baggins ceases bouncing and discovers what a bone is.
The weather was beautiful here this weekend - the sort that lifts the spirits, clears the head and fills the brain with new ideas (I think I've had a touch of writer's block recently, so I needed this).
A long time ago, we spent a year in Australia - lots of people asked us what we missed about home: for me (apart from family and friends) it was those late-winter, early-spring, frosty mornings when you wake with the sun flooding in through the curtains and outside, the air is so crisp and clear that the horizon is stretched and you can see for miles. Days like that never happened in Melbourne; even in winter, there was a slight haze disturbing the clarity of the air.
Today was one such perfect day:
And it was a good weekend for gardening.
"Oh," you sigh. "Ah," you think : the beds of the title are flower beds! What did you think I was going to write about? Really?! ... 'beautiful boys and beds' ...
The 'beautiful boys' -
And the flower 'beds' ... Spring is springing (as in springing forth ... not BB-bouncing):
Clearing away the debris of autumn and winter is a hobby not understood by Four-legged-friend and Bertie Baggins ...
Give two dogs one bone = garden warfare. My fault! But the consequences were quite interesting:
Bertie Baggins knew not what a marrow bone was.
Something smelt interesting, but the butcher's plastic bag was a bit worrying - in a crinkly, why is that being shoved in my face sort of way.
As for Four-legged-friend - he smelt the smell and his rear-end took on an entire life of its own, one that could only be done full justice to by the attachment of a kilt: he could barely stand, it was swaying so frantically (dog kilts - probably do exist, but why put your dog in clothes at all? They're covered in hair. It keeps them warm. They moult several tog values all over the house when the seasons change. They don't need clothes and Four-legged-friend would be confused and stressed if made to wear anything other than his collar - the only kilt he'll ever wear is the one animated onto a photograph ... the photograph inside my head - the one that's making me smile :-) ).
From swinging kilts back to bones ... since Bertie Baggins arrived, he has used his 'wits' to help himself to the warmest spot in the kitchen; to sit in the centre of the remaining unshredded dog bed; to take his uncle's bigger crate (during the day only) and generally, to calmly assert his position as future pack-leader. Four-legged-friend doesn't appear to be remotely bothered. FLF is probably a dog of little brain. FLF is a gentle giant. But put a bone between our gentle, black giant and his little golden nephew and Beauty becomes a snarling Beast. Dog morphs into bear.
At about this point, Bertie Baggins realised that there was something about this bone thing, other than the smell - something that meant excitement. And competition.
As FLF collapsed to the ground, bone between his front paws, Bertie Baggins commenced a frankly distracting, bouncing dance. FLF never bounces; he seldom even jumps, but when he does it is horse-jumping-over-fence like - coiled power driving upwards from his hips, front paws in the air. Bertie Baggins springs ... on all fours. Sorry, but I'm back to animation again - his bounce is so fast that it looks almost as though four rockets have simultaneously exploded beneath his paws forcing him vertically into the air, while his body remains parallel with the ground. The only other time he does this, is when I get home from work and go to release the dogs from their run. So far, he hasn't realised that he easily achieves sufficient height to leap over the fence - luckily, he hasn't discovered that momentum is also possible in a forward direction.
Anyway, he obviously wasn't too sure about the snarling-big-friend-interesting-smell situation, so took to doing mini-springs in a circle round FLF, which was fine - until FLF moved. And Bertie Baggins landed on his back. Perhaps the back straddling was pre-meditated - it certainly resulted in a swift change in ownership of the bone. FLF opened his mouth to protest; the bone dropped onto the grass; Bertie Baggins snatched it and ran. FLF made to follow ... and I guess things could have turned nasty, had I not produced a second, larger marrow bone from the bag.
The moral of this tale - when faced with two males who both think themselves alpha, treat them both.
The solution - give two dogs two bones (obvious really!).
The result - big bear tries to fit them both in his mouth. Realises they don't fit. Gives up. Helps himself to the biggest one (he is alpha after all!). Bertie Baggins ceases bouncing and discovers what a bone is.
The weather was beautiful here this weekend - the sort that lifts the spirits, clears the head and fills the brain with new ideas (I think I've had a touch of writer's block recently, so I needed this).
A long time ago, we spent a year in Australia - lots of people asked us what we missed about home: for me (apart from family and friends) it was those late-winter, early-spring, frosty mornings when you wake with the sun flooding in through the curtains and outside, the air is so crisp and clear that the horizon is stretched and you can see for miles. Days like that never happened in Melbourne; even in winter, there was a slight haze disturbing the clarity of the air.
Today was one such perfect day:
And it was a good weekend for gardening.
"Oh," you sigh. "Ah," you think : the beds of the title are flower beds! What did you think I was going to write about? Really?! ... 'beautiful boys and beds' ...
The 'beautiful boys' -
And the flower 'beds' ... Spring is springing (as in springing forth ... not BB-bouncing):
Clearing away the debris of autumn and winter is a hobby not understood by Four-legged-friend and Bertie Baggins ...
Or perhaps, they understand it all too well ... "You'll play chase with us if we stand all over the flower bed - won't you?!"
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