The Little Pack

At 3 and 1/2 years old (she has been with us for 2 1/2 of those years), Cheyenne has suddenly learned to bark. Until this point, we have heard quite a  melodious range from little Cheyenne–from yodels, howls, aroooos, sighs, yips, snarls, moans, and groans, but never a true bark. Sure, if there is a stranger in the neighborhood, she dutifully (and may I say gleefully) sounds the alarm–with a howl. A few weeks ago, I thought I heard her bark, but doubted myself. Today, there was no denying either the sound, or source. She was not shy about about it in the least, it was a loud, proud, assertive bark, that she seemed to delight in making.

Dixie had just finished licking the plate after we had spaghetti for dinner. I’m pretty sure that when the vet said, absolutely nothing except her food, he didn’t mean, oh and leftover spaghetti too. She has no idea the evidence is all over her face.

Dixie is going through an extraordinarily naughty stage. We think that she is testing her boundaries but oh my! She is something else lately. She seems to be deliberately  misbehaving. Little does she know that she has nothing on Cheyenne. If I made it through the tough times with her, I can make it through anything!

Some of you may remember the first afghan incident. Since then, the saga has continued. Somehow, Cheyenne has adopted my favorite afghan as her own. My husband’s grandma made it for me when we were first engaged.  It is super fuzzy and soft and just the right size. The other animals have all tried to adopt it as their own and failed. Through the years I have successfully fended them all off. Cheyenne, however, is a different story. If I have the fuzzy afghan, and she has a different one, she will paw at me until I switch with her. The first time, I gave it to her because I was curious to see if that’s really what she wanted. Oops. That only reinforced her behaviour. Now it is a pattern. Further, somehow I find myself carrying the blanket from room to room for her–to the bedroom at night and to the living room during the day.

Today at work, every TV was tuned to CNN. Lunch times were made flexible to allow everyone to watch the historic event. I literally had goosebumps throughout the inauguration. There are no words to fully grasp the significance of today, so I leave you with the words of our new President:

Ah, toys… And though a whole basket of toys awaits, the only toy worth having is the toy some else already has. Cheyenne’s greed has overcome her and she is thinking, “If I can’t see her, she must not be there.” Dixie is mid-woof, incessantly carrying on and on until her woofs turn into shrill, desperate barks, insisting that Cheyenne give it back right now. And meanwhile Jack waits in the background, toy at the ready. If there are games with toys, he is not going to miss out. “Hey, maybe you can just throw mine while they sort this out?”