When we met my bros Frank and Stanley in the park a few weeks after our second birthday, it seemed to me the guys were already slowing down. They’ll tussle for a while, and then go their own way. They don’t want to mix it up nonstop anymore. Especially furry Frank, who is definitely the artistic one.
No slowing down for me. I still enjoy being just a little bundle of energy, chasing after anything that isn’t nailed down. That day, for example, after we walked in the park for an hour and I tussled with Frank and Stan, I was just getting warmed up for my daily tackle of Mike. Just watch. A day without a tackle is like a day without sunshine.
After we said goodbye to the boys, we went home for 15 or 20 minutes of chasing Wiffie around before dinner. And maybe some tug for dessert.
Sure, I’m better behaved and more mature all the time. But to demonstrate that I’m still a puppy in many respects, let me recount some recent events:
- I jumped out the open door of Mike’sparked car to chase a rabbit.
- I took off several times after the Bartons’ cat, Beau.
- I swiped a piece of pizza out of the hand of an unsuspecting child.
- I took off after a rabbit in an undeveloped part of the park and took off for more than an hour.
And really, to a large extent I managed to get away with all of that: Lots of bluster, little repercussion, if you ask me.
So clear the decks, people. I’m just warming up.