May 12, 2011

White Dog tucked a pillow behind my neck and ordered Steve to mix a pitcher of martinis the moment he walked in the door. "Rough day?" he asked. "Make it Scotch, neat!" White Dog replied.

My day began at 2 am when The Other White Dog and Yet Another White Dog decided to play King of the Hill complete with all of the noises and posturing that go along with the Olympic version. No one was willing to hurt the other but neither would back down. Puff, from her isolation crate, egged them on with suggestive whimpers and gate rattling.

We could not stand the guilt of constantly crating SAWD during her heat so we purchased baby gates to block both entrances to the kitchen. Steve moved the Army's bowls throughout the house. SAWD would be restricted to the kitchen but would have more freedom than in the kennel. That great idea was crushed in less than ten minutes, after Steve pulled out of the driveway. Puff simply scaled the fence.

Fortunately YoYoMa was at my feet so I could grab and leash him. (He is trying VERY gallantly to fight his urges). SAWD took off for the outdoors and then played "You Can't Catch Me!" But I did...eventually and with leashed YAWD tied to my wrist...and back into the crate she went.

That's when the endless pacing, panting and whining began. Her psychotic behavior set all of the White Dog Army on edge. Nuka barked at SAWD to stop...to the point of becoming part of the craziness. Quinn nervously paced around the house looking more and more distressed until he finally vomited. White Dog tried to maintain order but her herding and warnings just made the WDA more anxious and she fretted over me.

TOWD looked at me apologetically as I finished his upchuck mess and lost lunch...again. Before the new cleanup, I took time to sit and stroke Quinn's silky fur in the hopes both of us would find calmness in the interaction. He licked my hand and gave a half-hearted smile...

Which is the moment when the Demon Child (Puff), driven by hormones, dumped over her water bowl, dug up all the blankets into a heap and then peed on them. Then just to punctuate her displeasure she soiled the cage.

YoYoMa moved to my side and offered his collar. I resnapped the leash and freed our own version of Lady GaGa's Born This Way. That is when my Knight arrived home.

"We need ice cream with that scotch for momma," White Dog amended.