Sunday, August 24, 2008
Baxter, on the other hand, trembles at the mere mention of the word "bath." I'm not exaggerating. In fact, if one of us goes anywhere in proximity to the bathroom and says "Baxter," he'll run for his bed and lay there, visibly trembling, until he's dragged away by the collar.
This morning Baxter's dog breath seemed particularly pungent, so we decided it was time to brush the big guy's teeth. As my husband loaded up the special dog toothbrush with special dog toothpaste, he literally had to fight Kirby off.
Baxter hid under my desk, shaking like a leaf.
I finally wedged my leg behind him and managed to push him out into the open, where my husband sat, waiting with the toothbrush. It was an ordeal. I'm not sure Baxter's breath smells any better -- he hasn't even tried panting at me since the brushing... Hey, maybe we're onto something else here!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Baxter has always been brave in the face of uncertainty. He faces whatever life throws at him with the unflappability and curiosity of a gun dog. When he sees a new person standing in the yard or walking toward him on the street, he walks right up to them quietly...not in a particularly waggy, friendly way, but rather in the spirit of investigation. When there's a loud noise, Baxter runs toward it -- whether it be thunder, a gun shot in the woods or me dropping a kitchen utensil. When we're in a new place, he's an intrepid explorer, running ahead of the pack (as far as we'll let him go), sticking his nose into every nook and cranny. Whenever a box is opened or a bag is unzipped, Baxter is there with his nose right in it. And, as I've mentioned before, every single birthday gift and holiday package we've sent over the past nine years has had Baxter nose hair stuck to the scotch tape.
Kirby is a whole different animal. Frequently, when we open the door to go outside, he exits the house with a deep woof, as if to tell the world "I'm Kirby, I'm tough and I just wanted to let you all know I've arrived." Yet, when he is surprised by a new person in the yard or a neighbor coming out their door, his first reaction is an alarm bark. Any loud noises at all (even just a loud clank of a spoon in an empty bowl) send Kirby under the sofa. If it's thundering outside, we literally have to drag him out from under the furniture to go out and do his business. He'd rather burst than go where the noise is. And I certainly don't have to tell you the reaction when the local air show a couple of weeks ago brought in some fighter planes who made their big turns over our house.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Though I must add that our 100+ degree days seemed a distant memory as I donned a RAIN COAT to go to work today... Ok, the thunder the other night was cool and the rain was kind of refreshing. But I can't help feeling like those of us who live in the Pacific Northwest make a sort of deal with Mother Nature: we will put up with the seemingly endless drizzle for nine months, just for the privilege of having a perfect summer. For me, a perfect summer involves rain showers that last a few hours, maybe a day. Then bring on the sunshine. Oh, wait, at this very moment the sun is out AND it's raining. Ahhh, Mother Nature has a sense of humor...