I’ll keep this brief.
Last week, Mike went away for a couple of days to an undisclosed (at least to me) location. It was still dark outside the morning Heather when took him in the car, but that was OK with me, as I received the first of several Kong Wobblers to knock around and get treats from that I got every day he was gone. Heather just had to leave me with my Wobbler home alone for a couple of hours each afternoon for three days when she went to visit Mike. When she came home, we went for long walks in the park with lots of throwing the ball. I survived.
On the fourth day, Mike returned, but some things were different. I wasn’t allowed to jump up on him when he came into the house, reserving my kisses and nose-biting until he was officially prone in bed. Heather continued to take care of all my walking, my feeding and even my pleas for indoor playing with Lamby and Wiffie, which she normally ignores. As usual when Heather is in charge, I suffered through a lot more discipline and command tone, but also enjoyed more food and treats than Mike ordinarily dispenses. So all that was good.
The only problem came when Mike started to get out of bed and move around the house. He was always pushing this wheeled contraption around, and I frequently found myself running away or hiding under the dining room table in order to stay safely out of its path. I felt like I was one of those Japanese people fleeing Godzilla in the original version. YIKES! This part was scary.
Luckily, this scare lasted only a few days before Mike replaced the steel contraption with a smaller but harder metal stick that has a curved, rubber handle and tip. He hasn’t poked me with it (yet), but I’m still trying to stay out of his way, so far successfully. I’ll let you know how it goes.