Daisy Rescue Dog Month #8

Daisy and I have gained our summer weight – me from wine and ice cream, Daisy from a fuller dish of food twice a day. She looks good.
My house is a veritable playground for the two dogs. It looks like toddlers live with me. They have stuffed monkeys, squeak toys, and deflated balls everywhere. Sometimes Daisy has the coveted ball, sometimes Pepper does. They still compete for alpha position regarding the couches and chairs. The vet had said to have plenty of resources available so they wouldn’t fight. I have enough stuff for four dogs, and they still maneuver for the best of everything.
They fight to see who can get OUT the doggie door first.
They fight to see who can get IN the doggie door first.
They fight for my lap.
They fight for my chair when I’m not in it.
But in the morning when Pepper comes down to the bedroom to wake me up, Daisy pokes her head out from under the covers and jumps down. They lick and greet each other all the way down the hallway to the kitchen where they will get their breakfast before I get my cup of tea. I should’ve named them Lucy and Ethel. I stand between them until they are finished.
Daisy still dislikes car rides. She’ll spend the first half hour whining. She settles down as long as my speed remains constant. She even sleeps, but as soon as the speed slows down, she is up and whining, flinching at the semi-tractor trailer making braking noises in the next lane.
“Don’t look at the truck, Daisy! Look out the front window,” I say.
I am reasoning with a Jack Russell terrier.
People accuse me of talking to myself. I talk to my dogs a lot since I live alone. They like it, they never argue or talk back, they follow me everywhere and adore me. I get why so many humans have dogs. No strings. No attitude. Unless it’s a Jack Russell.
Then the attitude is, “I am Alpha. I’m scared of everything. I am tougher than you are, unless I have to get in a car.”
Daisy still makes me laugh, and because of her, I go on two walks a day. She also keeps Pepper happy.
I will never be able to board her at my favorite doggie vacay place, though. Olga only has a three foot high fence on the side yard. Daisy would be over that fence so fast. She would end up as a Jack Russell pancake since Olga lives on a busy road next to the freeway.
Oh, Daisy! I guess for now I will have to drag you to the beach with me and skip Paris in August. Go get the leash. It’s time for your walk, now that you’ve been whining about it while I wrote this entire blog post.

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