July 21, 2006
Around 5 o’clock this afternoon I was yacking with my visiting friend Beth when I had the sudden urge to go to the pet adoption store. She indulged me. Needless to say, I left with an overnight foster dog.
Jack is a huge, blonde, shepherdy-faced dog. I asked Beth, who knows a lot about animals, if she thought he was purebred. “Uh … purebred what?” she answered with infinite diplomacy.
Stella’s only half Jack’s size …
… so Stella spent a lot of time mashed to the ground.
But Stella can outdo Jack on agility any day. I’m not saying she’s graceful, mind you. She careens into fence railings. She runs so fast that she tips over and continues parallel to the ground before gravity gets the better of her. It’s like me and Irish dance: my leaps are fine; it’s my landings that suck.
Anyway, one moment she’s running full-on toward Jack, but just as their snouts are about to collide she loops around under him, he slams on his brakes, she dashes out between his front legs, and he looks confused.
He spins to catch her and she vaults over his back.
After more running Jack discovered humping. Then Jack asserted his right to eat both their dinners.
They galloped more. Jack humped more.
Overall, fun was had by all. I think.
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