Bonnie Conner called me at about 4:45 and said she was an hour from our meeting place. She also said that she would turn over to me a couple of shopping bags full of ribbons and prizes, but was keeping the dog. Her reason? Chase is “a flower child in a dog suit”. That’s a new description, but it fits.
So, the flower child is at home. He raced into the house and promptly marked the leg of a table. Hey! What are you doing? Oops, sorry, mom. The house just didn’t smell enough like me. Then the games began — poor Kip, I had just brought his weight back up to good, and the two of them are racing and rolling around. Inca is in the middle of it all telling the boys that they are ridiculous, but egging them on. Chase leapt on a leather club chair, flung the cushion in the air and performed some sort of gymnastics maneuver. Geez, Sherri, what did you teach my puppy?
Actually, I’m so glad to have him home that I just ran along behind the dogs steadying lamps and figurines. I think they’ll settle down in a couple of days. Tomorrow I’ll take Chase to the office so we can have some one on one time.
He grew a bit, filled out a little, his chest dropped. He looks grand, but he’s still the dog I probably should have named “Chaos”.