Saturday, February 5, 2011

Jack and Winston

My oldest son arrived around midnight with his two dogs—a jet-propelled Boston terrier named Jack (Union Jack) that he acquired as a puppy and a teacup poodle named Winston that was left with him by a former girlfriend when it was clear in the break-up that the dogs considered themselves a “set.”  He called from his car in front of the house to give us warning that he had arrived so we could temporarily install our cats in the bedroom along with their food, water, and other necessities.  The terrier has made it his personal mission to gain access to the cats so we go to great lengths to segregate them. 

The dogs visited several times during the holidays and have already endured much attention from our puppy, Milo.  So now when they come, they endure it no longer.  They make it crystal clear that they are not about to tolerate any of that puppy nipping or mounting or herding.  He tries anyway, and sometimes we are forced to pull them apart and put them in different rooms.  That means we have the cats in one room and my son’s dogs in the other.  And Milo mopes around the house—friendless. 

Jack and Winston are a comical pair.  One moves like a torpedo when he is motivated.  The other prances about, picking up his feet like a Lipizzaner.  In fact, Winston is never all that motivated to get from A to B on his own.  He just waits until someone picks him up.  When we come home, Jack jumps a few feet off the ground like a kangaroo on speed while Winston dances around in circles—around and around and around.  If I think about them with human characteristics, Jack would be in a football uniform and Winston would be wearing a lacy blouse with a peter pan collar. 

Milo is a bichon frisé—a placid but well-rounded breed.  He’s equally adept at prancing and torpedoing.  Thank goodness for doggie diversity.

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