Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Oranges in the Market Again

Last night I didn't get much sleep. I was nudged from my slumber by Moonie who was sitting on my neck with her face millimeters from mine, purring loud enough to wake the dead. She was tapping me on the cheek with her paw, one claw unsheathed, gently but inexorably reminding me that she doesn't get enough attention. I just knew that if she had fingers she'd be using them to pry my eyelids apart. I petted her groggily and drifted in and out of sleep waiting for Gregg's alarm to go off.
I took Ray for a quick spin around the block before dropping him at daycare. As usual, he was excited to be there and immediately chose his first victim - er, playmate, a little dog (he does love the little dogs!) that just as quickly skittered out from under Ray's paws and away from his yelling. The little dog ran over to Donny, who was in the process of drying one of the groomed dogs, and tried to hide behind him. 
Donny looked at the dog and said "I don't know what you want me to do, go play with him!" 
Ray was searching all over, poking his head under the grooming and drying tables and tossing this way and that. Every time he found the dog, he would yell again and the dog would run. Ray would follow as best he could, yelling. He was in fine voice. 
I watched the game of hide and seek for a couple of minutes. Ray was relentless in his pursuit and his calling, the little dog just as determined to get away. I wanted to stay to see the resolution of the game but it looked like it could go on for quite awhile, so I headed off to work.
When I returned at the end of the day the place was quiet, as usual, the remaining dogs all sacked out. 
The girl who brought Ray to the front said, "Ray has a new thing that he does. When the dogs take a nap, they choose a spot along the wall and Ray walks along the wall and steps on all of them while they're sleeping." 
She was grinning delightedly. I found myself wishing again that they had a doggie cam to catch the action.
I brought Ray home and let him into the back yard. I went to change and heard Gregg out back. 
"Ray is chewing on something that looks like a papyrus!" he yelled. 
I went to look and found it to be a large piece of unearthed, muddy, flabby, rawhide bone. Ray was enjoying killing it, slapping it around his head. I left him to it until he brought it into the house. We had an extensive game of keep away before I was able to grab the nasty thing and throw it out back where it was followed closely by it's owner.
Gregg and I had a nice quiet dinner untroubled by hounds.

Has anyone seen my Big Book of Dogs?

Wait, unh, I think I see it up there.

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