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The Well-tempered Dog

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Phoebe manages to grab Mr. Smiley and again holds it over her head. There is a pattern to The Games.

He is a thing of beauty in flight.

On his last leap, he snags the toy. Victory!

You have to let me rip it up now, Phoebe. I have earned this toy.

If it belongs to anybody, it belongs to me, Chet Baker. I have worked for it. And I know you are going to take it away from me again. You are a rotten person, Phoebe, even if you are my sister.

Mether is a rotten person too, for laughing at my distress. Besides, I am not ripping Mr. Smiley up right now. I am keeping him safe.

Well, Chet Baker, I am afraid the game is over. You could choke on bits of Mr. Smiley, and it is time for you to chew a Nylabone. No matter how much you roo or how cute you are, you won't get Mr. Smiley to destroy.
What makes you think that I want that old bone?

I think you will play with it, Chet Baker, because we love you and want you to be safe.

Well, when you put it that way, I can see your point. I am too old to choke on things, but I will accept your chicken-flavored Nylabone. That was a very good game. And I love you, too.


What a great series of photos--but the best of all is Phoebe's loving arm outstretched and touching Chet Baker's side.
Lucky dog--but also lucky home wherein such a dog resides.

My goodness. Phoebe is me, and Chet is my Toby, 30 years ago. Thanks, Julie.

What a precious picture story! Made me miss my 4 lb Shih Tzu, "Peanut" who thought she was a Great Dane! Thank you, Julie for this heart lifting moment!

All I have to say to this: THREE DAYS!!!!!!

The disgruntled face as he accepts chewing the Nylabone? He's slaying me.

Have a fantastic festival!

Yay, I love this story!

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