What do you get when you add a one-year-old puppy with infinite amounts of energy and no recall (that, people, is a fancy training word for coming when called) to an established pet-sitting house with two other dogs?!
Bumper mutts. Otherwise known as my chaotic life for the next week, and a word-riff on the concept of bumper cars. Amusing to watch? Yes. Jarring to participate in? Yes. Hard to stop once it has started? Definitely!
I’m dog-sitting for my favorite girls, Kelsy the Yellow Lab and Dakota, the German Shepherd/Collie mix. But this time I’m ALSO watching the neighbor’s attractive Chocolate Lab, Brandy.
Brandy is the quintiessential Energizer Puppy. Like a babbling brook, she’s constant motion and sound. On our first day of cohabitation she bounced, nipped, licked, downward dog’d (dogged?), barked and zipped around, trying to convince one of the other furkids to wrestle with her. Incessant prodding and bullying for FOUR HOURS. And this was AFTER an almost two-mile walk/training session!
On our second night of living together — and after another almost two-mile walk — Brandy actually laid down a handful of times, for approximately five minutes each time. We also had four staring contests, her wiggly butt trying to telepathically force a message into my exhausted brain. Unless her goal was to go outside and NOT play ball in the dark, her transmission failed.
Her personality is so different than what I’m used to, and she has totally changed the energy in the entire house. Kelsy’s eyes meet mine with the patience of an old soul, unquestioning but with the obvious undertone, “Sucker. You probably thought having a puppy in the house for a week would be FUN. Guess you learned your lesson. Now rub my ears, please.”
Dakota sits by my side and leans into my leg, lifting her chin to point her big brown eyes straight up to mine as she pleads with me to protect her from this stomping, sliding, incessant creature. She breaks eye contact with me to stare into Brandy’s brown head, “You can’t tackle me when I’m standing next to the human! Nyah nyah nyah boo boo!”
Then I walk away and with her temporary shelter removed, Dakota tears off around the island that is the living room couches and coffee table, starting a game of chase (or is it tag?). This game will last for the next fifteen minutes, or until Dakota (with her spit-spiked mohawk-ish hairdo) finds my side again and sits down, sides heaving, “Haha. You can’t get me. Home base is the human!”
I’m trying to instill a measure of discipline in this house and protect Kelsy and her aging body from the two hurtling, furry slobber rockets that have taken over my life and M’s house.
But against this particular brand of enthusiasm?! Perhaps Kelsy and I would be better off investing in Jersey walls for the living room…
Jersey walls in the livingroom…now that is a new concept!