I know you probably don't care much about what I've been up to this week. I'm sure everybody is wondering how the girls are all getting along and settling in.
So far, things are going pretty well.
I have a lot to learn, I know, about the politics of a multi-dog house. Dare I say a multi-bitch house? Present company excluded, of course. But we are very proud of our girls and how well they are seem to be adjusting to life together. I've told several people now that we have a shake-down of characters from Winnie-the-Pooh.
Lucy is Tigger. Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun. I worried about her adjustment the most, even though I knew she was lonely. But she's held her own. Our first born pup, Phoebe was so old when Lucy-Goosey moved in, that she was no real companion for our little beagle pup. Every morning when I'd get up early, early, Lucy would come downstairs with me and chase a ball or a bone or a decapitated squeaky toy from room to room. Only when the other girls got here did I realize that she was probably waiting for that toy to chase her back.
Now she has Violet. Lucy and Vi have really bonded and they play just the way Lucy and her tennis ball used to.
Violet is our little Piglet. "I'm a very small dog, you know, " she reminds us continually. She is a sweet, wee little peanut.
I mean look at that face. Impossibly sweet. She reminds me of a Steiff stuffed animal. Except her theme music is from The Great Escape. This very small dog (you know) has been very big trouble. Oh but she loves you so much, all she wants to do is snuggle. And kiss you. And snuggle some more. Except she's just very curious about what's on the other side of the fence. Our very own Pokey Little Puppy. She seems very confident and self-assured. I don't know what it is about Lucy that makes us think she's looking around to say, "Is this how we do it guys?" Not Violet. She knows the score. If she doesn't like how things are going down (Lucy and Thea's scraps were troubling to her at first), she'd just get up and leave. Hang out in her crate. But mostly she's happy. Her whole body wiggles when she wags her tail. And she'll put her paws up on her mom or Lucy's back if she's trying to get a little taller. Have to get a picture of that sometime. I keep trying.
Thea cracks me up because she is so serious. She's our Rabbit. Bossy and, well, bossy. I don't know anything about the Welsh national character; she strikes me as more German. Life is work. And she's regal too. When they got here, she jumped on the sofa and said, "Madame may be served her dinner now." When Team Squirrel springs into action, Thea is very focused. The first off the starting block as they all scamper outside. While the little girls play and bounce and chase about the back yard, Thea will watch from the porch.
I love this picture because she looks almost lighthearted. Almost. She's not. We had dinner by the fire Saturday night, and Thea is not lighthearted about food. She knows her way around a kitchen and a dining room, and she works hard in both places. She disdains toys, she never smiles, she's even been known to frown upon a milkbone. She reminds me of Mrs. Fisher in Enchanted April. All Thea wants to do is be left alone and think of better times and better men.
It's hard work on all of these girls running this house. Still, I think they'd all say they landed some place soft.