Happy Birthday Jiggle Low!

My boy is three years old today. Alpha to the max. Possessive. Positively mean when it comes to other males taking his place. Been known to pee on a man's pillow to make his point. Very infamous for peeing on the Pest Control Guy's shoes every year. Always jealous of any attention not on him, and loves to sleep on top of me, with his head tuck under my chin.

Happy Birthday, Jiggle Low! No, you can't play with "that thing with the big tail in the big cage" as your present.

Mwah!

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Furbaby Story: Deviousness Runs In My Family

In this corner, Jiggle Low, Strategist Extraordinaire:


In this corner, Pepe Le Pom, The Enfant Terrible:

My mutant pom, Jiggle Low, is a very possessive dog. You've read about his evil jealous antics, chasing after male Bug Guys, lifting his leg on anything used by my male friends, and growling at any encroachment of his territory, which includes me and his "harem."

Because of this, I've trained the new mutant baby, Pepe Le Pom, to not jump on the bed at night, but instead sleep on a pillow on the floor at my side of the bed. It has been working well. Late at night, I would turn over, dangle my hand down and give Pepe a pet and ear rub, which is a rare feat, since that dog is a walking piranha at the moment; he walks and runs with his mouth open all. The. Time. And his idea of playing is to chew on anything you extend in his direction. So it's nice to be able to have a quiet moment with him. In the morning, if I peer over the side, he'd turn on his back so I could give him a belly rub before he dashes off to his rampant destruction of any new toy of the day.

Jiggy, on the bed by my side, seemed satisfied with the arrangement. Or at least I thought so. He used to jump on and off the bed because he liked sharing time with his Other Woman, Lilah, who resides under my bed. I know. How typical male, right? But that's another topic for discussion ;-). Anyway, when he's not a possessive hump on my chest, I assume he's under the bed guarding his Other Woman.

This morning, he wasn't on the bed. I sleepily turned over, dropped my hand over the side, made contact with fur, and sleepily, as always, pet Pepe. I felt him stretch his neck out so I could reach under his jaw (do dogs have chins?). As I--sleepily--rubbed him, I could feel him just moving his body under my fingers, getting the maximum mommy attention.

I was thinking, how cute, he's learning how to move around so I could scratch all his favorite spots. Wait. A. Minute. My eyes slitted open. I slowed my hand, exploring a little. Pepe, in spite the amount of food he consumes, has a bony back, and this one is rather...rumpy and thick with hair instead of puppy fur.

I moved closer to the edge of my bed and peered down. There, on the pillow, wasn't Pepe Le Pom. It was Mr. Jiggle Low, using all his Bad Boy Skillz to hunch down like a small puppy and staying quiet as he stole his rival's morning privilege.

Pepe's tail was peeping out from under the bed, so I'm assuming Jiggs had pushed him there sometime before I woke up. He had PLANNED this. TIMED the precise moment I would reach out for the pup. HUNCHED DOWN in the exact place. And WAITED.

Is that not deviousness? That is awesome deviousness. I could only stare down into his soft melty (and triumphant) gaze in proud momma admiration.

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Bad Puppy Nearly Gave Me A Heart Attack

I thought I'd take a writing break by taking a nice late night walk with Bad Puppy. It was really humid outside so instead of the usual brisk pace, I took my time and strolled. I live in a pretty quiet neighborhood and usually, by this time of the night, everyone's inside their cool homes.

Not tonight.

A young man was outside with his unleashed dog. Big dog. It was dark and I didn't see him leaning against his car till it was too late and the big boy started coming after Bad Puppy. I couldn't scoop my baby up because he was playing Alpha Dog and running out to block the attacker's path. This dog was five times the size of Bad Puppy.

I didn't even have time to yell out. Everything was moving in slow motion. All I saw was this hugggge maw about to swallow Bad Puppy's head. I tugged at my leash as hard as I could and sort of did a bad pirouette with one leg while my free hand reached out in between the two dogs. I'm still not sure what happened, but I must have swung my arm hard enough to toss my furbaby into the air.

One moment he was about to get mauled and the next, he was yelping because of the tight leash as he flew into my arms. I started running like a mad woman because the other dog was still trying to jump up after his new toy.

The man, who had been yelling all this time, finally managed to get his dog under control but I was already half a block away. Because it was dark, I couldn't tell whether Bad Puppy was hurt since he was yelping and wincing. When I set him down, he just curled up and refused to budge. That got me really worried, I tell you.

When the other dog's owner finally caught up with me, he began apologizing profusely and tried to pet Bad Puppy. I had to stop him since my baby didn't like strange men getting too close to me. I was suddenly aware of my wet hand. I prayed it was piss and not blood.

Calming down a noisy apologetic man and a whining dog at the same time without raising my voice was quite a feat. I finally convinced him to just. Let. Me. Be. for a few minutes. Bad Puppy finally got up and we walked under a streetlight.

Oh no, my hand was bloody.

I knelt down again, this time feeling more panicky. Where was he bleeding? I undid the leash so I could look better and Bad Puppy whined again.

"Where are you hurt, Jiggy? Where are you bleeding?"

He allowed me to run my hands up and down his body and didn't seem to be hurting. I stood up and following my lead, he did the same. I frowned. WTF? He seemed okay.

I looked at my hand again. Oh. Looking closely, I realized that I was the one bleeding. It was just a tiny puncture wound but I guess all that adrenalin made it appear worse than it was. I think Bad Puppy's teeth grazed me when I snatched him from the air. I'm pretty sure the Other Dog didn't bite me or I'd definitely have more puncture wounds than this one. Bigger ones too.

Anyway, I'm home now. Bad Puppy is fine. A bit on the quiet side but I'd checked him thoroughly. Nothing. Maybe wounded pride that he didn't get to fight. He didn't understand that he'd have lost that one if Mommy hadn't stepped in.

Ah well. It was supposed to be a nice peaceful stroll for the uber author looking for some relaxation and to perhaps lose a few calories. Instead, I'm now wide-eyed and all tied up in knots. Need comfort food. Where's the icecream?

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Bad Puppy II

Does that look like a BAD BOY to you? Think he's an angel, with no plans to make anyone mad at him? Well, some bad boys know how to look innocent.

So I woke up this morning at the sound of paper ripping. I peered over the side of my bed.

Jiggle Low is chewing on a book! From my Keeper Basket! (Yes I have a Keeper Basket by the side of my bed).

I went ArrrgHHHhh! And he went Yip, yip, yip, yip under the bed as I jumped off to rescue my precious. Sigh. Cover corner is gone. The book? LINDA HOWARD'S SARAH's CHILD. Bad, bad, bad child of mine.

I have forgotten the funny and exasperating travails of having a puppy in the house, since all the mutants are now adult dogs and MOSTLY well-behaved. Jiggle Low lives up to his name, let me tell you. No wonder his former mom named him that. He jiggles and and wiggles and streaks from one end of the house to the other 0-60mph. The former "baby mutant," Lilah, doesn't know what to make of him, especially since she hasn't yet realized that he's her gigolo ;-P.

But bad puppy must like reading. Linda Howard's SARAH'S CHILD is a pretty tasty story!

Besides the usual puppy training, this mutant pom is also in love with things three times his size. He has adopted Brando's Giant Stuffed Rabbit as his own. It is funny watching him try to drag the thing around by the ear.

The house is a mess. And he's driving the men in my life crazy with his territorial behavior ;-). You can't help but giggle at the sight of a tiny pup the size of Cabbage Patch doll headbutting big muscular males out of the way because the woman is HIS, dammit. Heh.

Ah, bad boys and bad mutant poms. They know how to get my heart.

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