~ Coffee, Tea, or Grubs ~
“So, what do you think, Haze?”
It’s a seasonally rare, sun-warm day, and Tucker, laying in the sun near Hazel, strikes up a conversation to kill time between bursts of madness that is flying by at odd intervals.
Hazel stretches her full length, prepares to brace herself as the frenzied volume is increasing to the north.
“It’s pretty much better.”
Tucker strains to hear against the approaching danger. “WHAT?! WHAT DID YOU SAY??”
Hazel ignores the question and sees that she better move quickly from her current position.
“ROCKS, ROCKS, TUCK!!!”
Racing like missiles through the west gate, (for the seventh time), Keira finally has managed to get in front of Prudence, and Pru follows hotly, determined cross the backyard to get to the pine tree first.
Keira, in making the tightest of turns to now cut off Pru, launches her to come through the gate with a pronounced list to port. Gravity gains a slight advantage against her weight and now low center of gravity. Rather than take an impending fall and let Pru get to the tree on the far side first, she opts to swing her hips like a baseball bat in Pru’s oncoming direction.
Hazel seeing what Keira was going to do, knows Keira’s rear paws were going to dig in and send little, pink, decorative rocks in the two senior’s direction. Again.
Dad appears at the patio door at the sound of gravel hitting the house (again), to see Pru leap over Keira far higher than she needed, (just to show off), and break the four-footed land speed record to the pine tree.
Dad, under his breath, “Whoa, I am soooo glad Mom didn’t see that.” (Sip) Out loud now, “Who’s, uh… winning?”
Tucker, opening his eyes now that the gravel is back on the ground, advised, “No one, really. It’s more of an argument than a game.”
Dad, wishing he had his sunglasses on, raises a hand to block the sun and gauge each four-pawed’s disposition. “What’s the “bone-of-contention” this time, Sheriff?”
Tucker lowered his voice. “They’re arguing about whether to settle their differences in garden area or under the pine tree.”
Dad chuckles. “Wait… they’re arguing about where to argue?”
Hazel yawns loudly, Tucker just looks at Dad. Dad watches, Pru and Keira quietly trying to saunter to the open gate and turn out of view into the garden area.
“What is the disagreement?”
“I don’t think they remember.” Hazel resumes her position for optimum ray-catching.
Tucker sniffing the air above him. “Is that coffee?”
“Why no Tucker. It’s tea!” Dad raises his cup.
Hazel snaps to a near-sitting position, radar ears angle in Dad’s direction.
Dad elaborates further. “It’s you know, Do Weird Stuff Day, where you do stuff people don’t normally do.”
Hazel comes up to full sit. “It’s a Day, not all year?”
“Sure is, Hazel. I have on mismatched socks, put my belt on backwards, been typing with chopsticks, and, of all things, I’m drinking tea.”
Dad tries to sip his beverage while not make eye contact with Tucker, who is glaring at Dad.
“My Sheriff’s BS meter is ringing.” Tucker licks the side of front paw and wipes his muzzle as though something distasteful had left a mark.
Dad, lightly red around his cheeks, steps down from the doorway to better hear any untoward activity out in the garden.
“So…uh…Tucker, I’m just trying to keep things light. I’m actually drinking tea to remember that, when it was a new beverage in Europe and abroad, it cured many adults of addiction to gin. You know, as an alternative beverage. Also, to remember the English afternoon tradition.”
Tuck, satisfied, resumes his ray-soaking position.
“I like the other story better,” Hazel says, back on the ground, almost nodding off.
Tucker almost succumbing to a nap also, “I never heard your answer Haze… from before.”
Hazel, now halfway between wakefulness and a semi-alert state, answers, “It’s mostly better.”
Dad, still straining to hear what Pru and Keira might be up to asks, “What’s mostly better?”
“Pru’s behavior in the pack.” Tucker continues, “I’ve seen a big difference since Pru’s gone to Daycare at The Ranch. Socializing with other dogs is helping her become a good fit for our pack family. I just wanted to know how Hazel felt about it.”
Dad nods in agreement, wondering why it’s so quiet out in the garden area.
Hazel, reluctantly surfaces from the call of the sun-nap to interject, “I’m not all that sure that three trips to doggie daycare makes everything Doris hunky.”
“Hunky Dory!” Dad and Tuck in unison.
Dad now free of an empty teacup, reaches down to console Haze.
“Just give it a little more time Haze. I know Pru improperly asserts herself towards you, but retreating and moping isn’t what she needs.
“She’s really just trying to engage with you. You’re allowed to enforce your boundaries, but more importantly, help her mature by showing her the ropes around here.
“You have rank and respect inside the pack as the eldest four-legged in the family, that won’t change.”
Dad, thinking that should pretty much set everything right for now, realizes he hasn’t heard a peep out of the garden area.
“What do you think those two girls are up to now?” Dad said to no one in particular.
“If they gave up arguing, Keira’s probably showing Pru the ropes of grub-hunting,” Tucker states dryly.
“And, what does that mean exactly, Tuck?” asked Dad, shifting his weight towards the garden gate.
“Well… If you had come out to water the garden when Mom asked you to, you’d have found that by watching Mom when she turns the soil, Keira has learned that grubs hide down in the dirt.” Tucker stands up with a stretch. “Didn’t you see the dirt on their paws, Dad?”
Shaking his head slightly, “No. I haven’t had coffee yet.”
“Keira’s showing Pru where the grubs are… under the apple tree.”
“What? They’re digging under the apple tree!?”
Dad doesn’t wait for an answer before running across the yard and disappearing through the gate.
“Wow, haven’t seen Dad move that fast in a long time,” said Tucker through a prolonged yawn. “Wonder if it’s the tea?”
Distant sounds of exasperated Dad explaining, at length, why the girls’ current digging project was to be immediately stopped now and never be restarted entered Hazel’s ears as she tried once again to relax and enjoy the sun without chaos and flying gravel.
“I knew right away “Do Weird Stuff” wasn’t just for one day…not in this pack.”
~ Hazel Bazel Rocket (Not Missile) Dog ~
