It’s crowded down here. Way too crowded indeed. Maxie has a new sister, Fern, and she’s driving my poor canine brother up the pole. Not only is Fern younger, cuter and getting more attention, she’s got the entire household cleaning her poop with a smile. Maxi knows the rules. If he leaves processed dog food on the floor there’s hell to pay. But not Fern— she’s too young to know right from wrong. Her little piles of puppy dung are met with chortles of adoration. “Ow, would you wook at what puppy wuppy has gone and weft us on wa fwoor!” someone will say, armed with a rubber glove and a clump of toilet paper. Fern gaily marches out the door to chase butterflies and trip over her unusually long legs.
She’s cuter than Kelly Clarkson in a Christmas hat. I’ll give her that much. But my heart goes out to Maxi during these dark times. George, the oldest hound in the pack, is unfazed. We could just as well have brought home a pet ostrich and George would barely notice. She’s too old and regal to give a hoot about competition. But poor Maxi has become a middle child overnight. I walked past his kennel the other day and heard ‘My Chemical Romance’ blaring from his stereo. “My dog’s into emo!” I gasped in horror.
So today, even though it’s windy and kak on the beach, I’m vowing to get Max outside. He’s got to get out of this funk. I won’t have him sleeping till 12, painting his claws black and growing a ridiculous fringe. Not on my watch.
***
Obama mania continues. He even body surfs! Brett sent me this link yesterday, which has a video clip of Obama showing his skills in Hawaii.
http://www.wavescape.co.za/swell-lines/no-54-obama-rides-a-bomb.html
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