Yeah, I'm learning some good stuff in martial arts. Mess with them a bit, then just say, 'oh hell with it', pull out the gun and BOOM!
posted on 02/19/2004 12:56:17 PM PST
The Dread Boston Salty was in finishing school (okay, it was really more like boot camp) for two weeks around Christmas. When we got him home, he had lost a little weight, and was exhausted and didn't sleep well for two nights - instead of breathing deeply and regularly, as usual, his breathing was shallow and short, almost a whimper. We stayed up very late rocking him to sleep those nights.
The second day, I thought he'd been abused and not well fed. I had two nights of revenge fantasies: figuring out who abused my dog, grabbing him, tossing him in the trunk of my car, and taking him to a secure undisclosed location for a loooong leisurely chat with me and Mr. Katana.
I figured I was wrong when Salty and I went back for our first people 'n' dog lesson the next week, and he couldn't get in the door fast enough and jumped all OVER the trainers with his little tail wagging so hard, he almost took off.
He was just way tired from working out (up to 10 times a day for 15 minutes at a time) and playing with all the bigger dogs. He's back to his old self, except not quite as sassy. (He still gives me attitude every now and then, just to keep his hand in.)
posted on 02/19/2004 1:01:39 PM PST
(I may not agree with your bumper sticker, but I'll defend to the death your right to stick it)
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