Gone to the Dogs

Life has gone to the dogs lately. Literally! Mica, our 11 year old Beagle, has been Mommy's baby and Daddy's little girl since she came to us as a tiny puppy tripping over her long ears until she finally grew into them. Recently, she rather reluctantly opened up her home to Blue, a young, energetic, muscular Boxer-Amstaff mix with an engaging, albeit occasionally domineering, personality. Blue is the pride and joy of Son # 2 whose new job necessitated a part-time return to home turf. She also has a brother, Hemi, a.k.a. the Gentle Giant, who occasionally drops by for a visit. Hemi boy could easily be a stand-in for Scooby-Doo; a big old wuss who looks imposing but is actually scared of his own shadow, especially since a recent terrifying encounter in which he had his ears boxed quite soundly by a neighbour's cat. Then there's Reno and Nova, the canine offspring of Son # 3. When those two rapscallions join the brood, all hell breaks loose.

Mica leaves no doubt in the others' minds that she's top dog, the matriarch of the clan. Even though she's much smaller than Blue, Hemi and Nova, she has no trouble giving them a verbal lashing when necessary. Little Reno, with his mischievous, elfin face, usually turns his head to one side and sits back on his haunches to watch the exchanges from a safe distance. At times, Mica and Hemi seem to form an alliance of the laid-back duo while Blue and Nova rambunctiously duke it out over territorial rights. Reno, Houdini of the doggie world, quietly pokes around trying to sniff out a likely escape route in which to squeeze through for a brief attempt at his own little run for freedom.

As you might guess, our backyard is now a veritable minefield of doggie do. Hence, at least twice daily, I hie myself off to the battle grounds armed with a litter scoop – gives a whole new meaning to the phrase “doggie-bag.” When the pooping and scooping is done, it's time to take out the garden hose and give the grass a refreshing sprinkle. One day while Hemi was visiting, I had just turned on the water and before I knew what hit me, I was slammed against the side of the garage by an 85 pound whirling cyclone of a dog. I had never seen Hemi so animated. Who knew he had a thing for garden hoses????

Sometimes, when it's just the two of them around, Mica and Blue curl up together like two peas in a pod. Of course, if I happen to plant my butt in their vicinity, they both want to get up in my lap. It's hilarious to see the shapes they get themselves into while trying to squirm closer to Mommy or Nan depending on whose viewpoint you look at. Yes, I have been reduced (or elevated) to being not just a canine mother, but now also a grandmother to a pack of dogs.

For a brief period of time between the kids leaving home and the dogs descending upon my little castle, I prided myself on having a reasonably tidy house. Now, the floors are covered in old blankets, the furniture is showing signs of wear, dog fur sometimes swirls around like tumbleweeds out of the wild west, and eau de chien is my signature cologne. Aw, well, things could be worse. Imagine if someone brings home a cat!