This pen? Is a uni-ball. And right now, so is Magnum. He's only 9 1/2 weeks, so it's certainly not panic time or anything like that. He has time yet. But it would be really nice to check that particular thing off of the list of things that might possibly keep the little man out of the show ring, you know?
Now, I will be the first person to leap in the air and admit that I am woefully inept at locating these particular goods, at least on young puppies. I mean, they're sort of dynamic little things at this stage -- they're up, they're down, they're in, they're out, they're a whole freaking Katy Perry song. I'd locate one, feel around for the other, and not be sure if I had found the second or if the first had just made an end-run and popped up under my fingers again in this new location. It's like trying to predict where the whack-a-mole is coming up next. Using two hands is not an option; I only have two, and one needs to keep the exceedingly wiggly puppy in place. I'd recruit the hubby to help me find the dog's balls, but as wonderful as he is, there are limits. Trust me, at this point I'm going to find Waldo, Carmen San Diego, the Red October and the Holy damn Grail before I'm likely to find the MIA puppy bit.
Rather than make an almost 3-hour drive to Joanna's to go feel like an incompetent ass, I took Magnum over to my local trainer. I already pay Thom good money for agility classes every week to feel like an incompetent ass, so hey! Nothing new there. Thom confirmed that he could only locate one of the twins as well, so it's not just me. Or, Thom is also an incompetent ass. But I'm betting on the former.
So, if anyone knows any ritual, Native American Drop The Ball In The Scrote dances, now would be the time.
No big socialization outings to report over the last few days, what with the torrential downpours and all. While we were at Thom's, Magnum did have an encounter with a Wooly Mammoth, also knows as a rambunctious, adolescent Newfoundland. Typical Newf, the big guy was all "Puppy!!!!!!" and came running over to see Magnum. Magnum just sat, looked up (way up), and gave a doggy equivalent of "Dude!", then sniffed, wagged his tail, gave a little play bow, and would have started running around playing with the Newf if I hadn't held onto his leash. He repeated that behavior (minus the "Dude!") with a Lab mix, a Shih Tzu and a long-haired Dachshund. There was no fear, no spazzing, just appropriate greeting and a "Cool, let's play" in response to the other dogs, all varying degrees of bigger than him. I do love me a well-bred, even-temperamented (I know, it's not a word. shut up), well-socialized puppy.
So that's the latest from Casa Smalltyme. Next week my incompetent ass will most likely be making that trip to Joanna's for some adventures in ear-taping (see above re: the two hands thing). Expect to see subsequent pics of the cone-head in action. And if anyone encounters a stray boy-puppy bit, send it our way!
Silly Faces and an Awwwww Moment
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