Just outside our neighborhood is a field in between a church and an elementary school. The lawn is well kept, but it's rarely used, so Nugget and I take frequent field trips there. I let Nugget off his leash at one corner and he sprints to the other corner looking for birds. Occasionally, there will be a crow or two for him to chase off. Above everything else in the world, Nugget loves chasing birds. The only thing that can sometimes break him off a bird chase is a stern voice and the promise of a hot dog. So imagine his excitement when we went to the field today and there were three (three!) crows and a handful of small birds all sitting around gossiping.
I took off his leash, watched him sit there twitching for a moment (because it's hilarious), and finally gave him the verbal "okay!" to which he exploded like a cannon. He raced as fast as his little pencil legs could carry him in the hopes of finally catching his very own crow. But alas, it was not to be. The good news, however, is that he succeeded in once again ridding his beloved field of the scourge that is birds. After Nugget chased the birds off, he started frolicking around the field, inspecting the areas where the birds had been to check for any loose change that might have fallen out of their pockets during the hasty escape. And that's when I noticed the swallow. It was a very cute black swallow and, as swallows are wont to do, he was flying low to the ground. Unlike the other birds, he had decided not to flee the scene. But here's the best part: he was following Nugget around. No matter where Nugget went or in what direction he turned, the swallow stayed close behind. I was surprised because the swallow's flight was cool and easy, not at all like he was agitated and trying to attack Nugget. I kept trying to show Nugget the swallow, but it was tough because the bird was so good at keeping to Nugget's rear end. When Nugget finally saw it, though, he kicked into high gear again and sprinted his little heart out trying to get to it. He was especially excited because the swallow was flying at exactly his height off the ground. So there they went, little Nugget and the little swallow, chasing each other around the park. At several points, they would get stuck in a circle, going round and round and round trying to catch one another. Nugget has the heart of a champion but only the lungs of a very small dog, so after several minutes of running/flying together, Nugget collapsed to the ground and seriously contemplated throwing up. The little swallow friend must have felt for him because once he realized that Nugget just couldn't keep up anymore, he excercised good sportsmandship and politely left the park altogether. Nugget had to rest for a good long time before he was ready to make the trek back home. When we got home, Nugget got a nice big drink of water. And then he asked if we could go play with the swallow again tomorrow. A few nights ago, Nugget was sniffing intently around a post in our backyard. Gary went out to inspect the situation after we saw the ground moving. Gary came in and said, "There's a critter out there that has a long mouse face with a little tiny pig snout." "A mole!" I shouted gleefully. We googled mole pictures just to verify. And sure enough, this is what Gary saw: (Yeesh, someone needs to trim their fingernails.) By the next morning, our little mole frienemy (I say friend, Gary says enemy) had already started edging / aerating our lawn. (His path is now five times as long as this, running along the edge of our patio and backyard.)
Nugget was put in charge of getting rid of the mole, but since he's not allowed to dig, it's been a real challenge for him. He's been really stressed out about it because, you know, his allowance is riding on it. Gary's mother and two sisters came to visit recently, which means the male population in our household (aka Gary) was highly outnumbered. And this, Society, is the result of too much girl-power.
Nugget's friend Anabelle came over to play today. And this is why he loves her: I don't have a baby yet, so cut me some slack for loving my puppy dog too much. Karl G. Maeser said, "I have been asked what I mean by 'word of honor.' I will tell you. Place me behind prison walls--walls of stone ever so high, ever so thick, reaching ever so far into the ground--there is a possibility that in some way or another I may
escape; but stand me on the floor and draw a chalk line around me and have me give my word of honor never to cross it. Can I get out of the circle? No. Never! I'd die first!" Here's Nugget's version: Despite Nugget being a very small dog, he adores being outside. The only problem is that we live in Portland and the 9-month rainy season provides a guarantee that little Nugget will find a way to soak up mud to his armpits whenever he goes out. So whenever he comes in, family policy requires him to sit on the mat inside the door and get cleaned up. He knows that he’s not allowed to leave the mat until we give him the okay. Nugget usually eats outside, but this morning, since he was inside, I brought his bowl in and set it on the mat. He strolled over and started chowing down and I started doing stuff on the computer. An hour later, I realize that I hadn’t heard Nugget for a while. Apparently, after he had finished his breakfast, he found himself on the mat and decided he had better stay there until I gave him permission to leave. How cute is that? |
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