Duke had entranced Bonnie. She and Duke had a whole play relationship where they pretended to fight. Lots of snarling and growling and yipping and yapping and barking. Duke would get the show started by offering Bonnie his favorite toy of the moment. She would grab it and he would bark. Then she would bark twice, and they were off and running. Jumping and twisting and tossing toys in the air.
With all the noise, you might have thought one of them might get hurt, but no one got hurt. Not even close. When they got tired, one or both would fall over unconscious. Remarkably like toddlers at play.
Bonnie will still play. A little bit. But, for whatever reason, the romance ended yesterday at around two in the afternoon. A little play, but after that, she’s not interested. Last night, for the first time since they met, she didn’t want to play. He barked. She ignored him.
He brought her every toy he could find and offered it too her. She put her little nose up in the air and ignored his pleas.
He sat in front of us, looked at Garry … and whined. Duke has never whined. All the toys were in a pile, but no one was willing to play with him. Garry looked him with sympathy.
“Been there, buddy,” he said. “That’s just the way it happens sometimes. You’ll get used to it.”
Duke whined again. Garry ruffled his ears. He settled down on the sofa between us and went to sleep. Although he got Bonnie to play a little bit this morning, after that, she wanted to do what she usually does, which is watch the world through the window. She started it, but all the dogs like to put their chins on their paws and watch the road from the window. Even Duke does it now.
Duke wanted to run with toys. Bark. Chase things. Grab toys and fling them across the room … which somehow always makes it land on my keyboard … sometimes doing some pretty weird stuff to whatever I was trying to do. Bonnie wasn’t having any.
But Gibbs was ready to party … and suddenly, there was rocking and rolling and toys in the wind. Gibbs is a lot stronger than Bonnie … and although he is short-legged, he outweighs Duke by at least five-pounds, all of which is muscle. They had a very good battle going on until they both fell asleep in the pile of toys. It turned out to be a much better day for Duke than he expected. We were glad he still had a playmate.
The Scotties are taking turns entertaining the Duke, who is at peace with the world. We are at peace with our crew of canines. If only the rest of the world could be content with a pile of stuffed toys and lots of fake growling.