~ three wears out all the fours ~
Finally. The house hold is quiet and the pack has wound down, having full bellies and finished their business outside. We on four legs are all bone-tired, and after checking on Dad one more time… I’m heading to the foot of the bed. I’ve tried to recall another time when I was this exhausted, maybe when I was a young pup on the ranch.
Right before Mom headed to bed, we were amusing ourselves watching Prudence yawn multiple times and almost falling asleep while she was standing. Of the members of our family, Pru would be the most tired now, and rightly so.
Dog and hoomans both experience the unexpected from time to time. Today was stellar in that regard.
Right after our breakfast, just as we were about to go outside, the doorbell rang. Dad and Mom were both surprised, and we-on-four sensed it. We raced to the gate in the foyer, which made Mom and Dad have to wade through our prancing excitement. After they wiggled their way through us while blocking us from squeezing past them and when they opened the door, our unbridled exuberance increased.
A woman who we didn’t know came in with her doggo. Mom was ecstatic when she saw who it was, and the two women couldn’t stop hugging each other and chattering back and forth.
Our pack couldn’t have wish for a more perfect break to our routine on a summer day. We had a new Hooman to check over… and… a possible playdate with one of our own. The woman’s dog ignored our histrionics and quietly sat behind his Mom.
Our Mom invited her guest into her office while giving the canine introductions and care over to Dad.
“This is Bodie the Brave, and he loves to play,” the woman wanted us to know before the gate opened and we could start the scrum of mutual inspection.
Bodie stood calmly to let us check him over after his Mom headed into the office. That’s when Dad noticed Pru was standing off to the side, shaking. Little tremors in her hind legs meant she was very anxious.
Dad walked over to give her a pat and an encouraging word, but she shied away from Dad’s hand so she could keep a wary eye on our visitor.
Bodie was obviously made from Heeler stock. He was silver-blue with a short scar on his right ear—which is probably why sometimes the tip of his upright ear pointed forward and gave him a slightly mischievous look. He was patient with our inspection and when he had had enough, he hopped past Pru a bit and sat with his back to the cautious pup.
Pru recoiled slightly at his approach and leaned away even more while she watched his strange gait.
Dad deftly closed the gate to separate Hazel, Keira and me from Pru and Bodie. Dad softly said things like, “Esta bien, loca… todo bien Pru… tu tranqilo.”
Pru alternately looked at Dad, then back to Bodie on her right. Bodie for his part decided he had waited long enough and stood up to stretch. That’s when Pru’s interest was piqued. She turned to me with a question in her eyes.
Tentatively, she lowered her head to Bodie’s backside trying to figure out a mystery. “Hey…where’s your leg?”
Bodie turned to Pru. “Not exactly sure. I remember a flash of pain and woke up in a crate at the vet’s, and my leg was gone. I was still a little pup at the time.”
Seeing that Pru had overcome her hesitance, Dad decided to open the gate at the exact moment Bodie saw the patio door and trotted straight for it with Pru close behind. Pru was mesmerized by how Brodie he moved.
Before Dad could unlatch the gate, Keira—jealous of Pru getting first dibs to go outside with the new pack guest—decided to jump over the gate. Or try to. She only made it about halfway over, and got hung up.
When Dad reached down to help Keira, Hazel made a premature move forward and took Dad out at the knees from behind. Dad folded in half and knocked open the gate on the way down.
Since Kiera was now free and out of our way, we raced to the patio door just as Mom popped her head out of the office to see Dad on the floor.
“What are you doing? Your supposed to watch the kidz.”
Before Dad could reply, Mom went back to her friend in the office.
When Dad finally quit fooling around and got to what was important (i.e., opening the doggone door), our home-pack raced outside. Bodie waited at the opening and gazed up at Dad.
“Go ahead Mr. Bodie.”
Bodie shot out the door.
After checking all the corners, plants, and trees (followed closely, of course, by the four of us), Bodie spotted a tennis ball under a patio chair. Scooping it up and testing it’s squeezability, he ran—no, really, he RAN—to the big garden section around the corner.
Pru (amazed that a three-legged dog could move that fast, and slightly put out that he took her ball with him) took off in hot pursuit. The rest of us were determined to follow, but the pair returned at high speed and passed us, slidding and skidding around the big pine tree and past us again.
“I’m surprised we didn’t hear a sonic boom,” said Hazel under her breath.
The rest of the morning and long into the afternoon, we ran, wrestled, played tag, drank lots of water, ran more and laid in sun, and then in shade, and ran some more. Bodie, who seem so reserved at first, turned out to be quite an athlete. Pru, known for her constant energy and athletic prowess, couldn’t believe how hard it was to keep up.
Dad even got in on the action for a bit making up a game he called, “Run from the Dingo”, which is something like the two-legged game of tag. It entailed pretending Bodie was a dingo, and the goal was to run for our lives.
You know Dad is kind of older like me and Hazel, and he ran out of steam after a few rounds. Pru thought that when Dad couldn’t keep up, he was sacrificing himself to protect the pack.
She thought it was pretty cool that he’d do that. All and all, it was a great day and will be long remembered.
So, like I said at the start, I’m heading to bed now after checking in with Dad. I hope he knows he would never survive in Australia. Just sayin’.
~ Tucker Oso ~
