Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Caleb - the Firecracker.



Wow, the weather at the airport was horrid. We got off the ferry, drove ten minutes and were in blowing, driving, wet snow. The plane was right on time, the puppy safe and sound.

Oh, he looks adorable and innocent, doesn't he? Actually, he's as totally different from Simon as oil and water. Where Simon was a quiet, docile, utterly gentle soul, Caleb here is a pistol. They were unloading his crate off the plane and you could hear him howling as they brought him up in luggage. Let me tell you, it's a big dog howl, whoo boy! He tips that little nose back of his and lets loose like a fire engine. Woooooooooooo. The minute he could get out of his crate, he was off to go explore the luggage carousel; had to grab and tuck him, and he thought this was awesome and spent the next ten minutes licking everyone's face he could possibly reach, including random passer-by's.


Then where Simon tucked his head into Matt's arm and breathed a quiet sigh of relief, Caleb spent the walk out of the airport wiggling all over like a jack in the box, staring at everyone and everything, yapping, howling, telling anyone in earshot how horrible that plane ride was.


He's into everything he can touch, he muscled his way right in with the rest of the pack and was snatching a bite to eat out of Riley's bowl. Riley was so shocked and baffled that someone was pushing their way in to his sacred stainless bowl that he allowed this to happen for two seconds before I could scoop him up and get him re-aligned with his own food. He's wrestled with Simon and held his own, wrestled some random cats, wrestled the carpet, managed to clamber onto the sofa all on his own.... the Pembrokes are quietly ignoring him for the most part. Piper gives him the "crabby face" when she sees him in her space. Riley keeps staring into the small of my back and I'm glad he doesn't have a high powered rifle. I'd be a statistic.


He was pretty good, slept most of the night in the crate next to the bed. Again with the howling, at 3:30 AM, 6:30 AM and now he's just running around in circles in the living room, barking like a doofus at Simon, who is not willing to share his toys in the morning. Actually, Simon's taken all of his toys and hidden them at this point, like an older brother. They're not even toys he wants - he hates the Nylabone, yet he's dragged it into his bed for safe-keeping. ;)

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