Adventures With Drake 1

Okay, yesterday was a day of high adventure with Drake. The first one came on our noon walk. We had stopped by the love of his life's house, but for a variety of reasons (mainly background noise), Emma's humans hadn't been able to hear her barking to get out. So, I tugged and yanked and bribed Drake to walk on.

About five minutes later, a car pulled up beside us on the road. It was Julie, Emma's owner, with Emma in the back seat. She slowed to walking pace and said, "Hi guys!"

And Emma jumped out of the back window of the moving car. Now, granted, it was moving slowly—just walking pace—but it was still a bit of a shock.

However, it was only a shock for the humans involved. Emma landed perfectly, and Drake seemed to take it as completely normal that the being he loves most in the world would drop from the sky to start licking him on the snout.

It's a strange world.

Greg

Trying Not to Complain (all the time)

I know I've fallen silent here, and I'm sorry. I've been trying not to complain, at least, not all the time.

You see, Drake has been being a) high energy and b) a brat. We make jokes about it, and he's damn loving and cute when he's loving and cute, and those two factors together are about the only things keeping him alive right now.

Take last night as an example. We had settled in to watch television, and Drake was in his winding down mode. He'd flop down and sprawl for a little while, maybe chew on a tennis ball for a while, then he'd get up and roam around.

Drake gets a certain look in his eyes at that time. We talk about him as a great white shark. He's moving in arcs, maybe circles, looking for something to chew on. Last night, it was a pencil sharpener.

We'd thought it was safe. It was sitting on an end table, behind my glass of soda, and he never knocks food over. Well, we'd underestimated his sneaky striking ability. Zip, he was in and out, and crunch, the pencil sharpener was a pile of plastic shards and pencil shavings. Why? We haven't got a clue. He felt like it.

We haven't lost anything valuable, but we're losing rolls of toilet paper, getting sponges chewed on, etc. He loves to chew. He also loves attention, even if you're not sure what he wants. I'll throw the tennis ball for him until he's tired of it and flops down on the ground, but if I turn to go inside, he's up and running towards me, sounding like a little pony.

He's been very draining.

Greg