Monday Morning Mayhem

I hear a deep-throated complaint from Gypsy, followed by a shrill warning bark.  It's morning.  FLD Gus bounces backwards, all four feet airborne.  He plops into a play-bow, pink tongue lapping wildly as he rock-and-rolls around the grouchy brown dog.

"Come on," he gestures with a squiggling black body of puppy-power, "let's play!"

Gypsy will have none of this; she howls at him again.  Gypsy, quiet! I whisper.  With these two, my neighbors won't need an alarm clock.

FLD Gus twirls his enthusiasm to me.  "Yippee!  You're up!"

Earlier (5:00 am!), I took Gus out to "park," sent him packing back into his crate, then returned to bed for as much time as I could wrangle.  About an hour later I heard Andy grinding beans; he took both dogs out a second time while his coffee brewed.  When he came back in with them, there was no more sleeping.

Gus, where's your toy?  Find it! I say.  There is a soft puppy-Nylabone lying on the floor behind him.  I point.  Gus turns, spots his tail instead and it's off to the races!  I retrieve the toy and say, Gus, sit.  He sits, swaying a bit from his tail-chasing.  Good sit.  Gus, down.  Inch-by-inch his front paws measure him down, eyes locked on the toy in my right hand.

Gus.  Take it.  He lunges and I just barely pull my fingers free.

FLD Gus tosses the toy in the air but misses catching it.  He pounces.  "Got it!"  As he zips away, I notice a small red spot on the light-green carpet.

Gus!  He scampers back to me with his head high, jaws snapping intently on the Nylabone.

Gus. Settle.  I cradle the exuberant critter in my lap, grasp the toy, and gently draw his lower lip back to sneak a peek.

Andy, I call.  Gus lost his first tooth!