Piranha Dog

We live in a small, ranch style, 3 bedroom house. From the east wall of the living room to the west wall of the master bedroom is pretty much a straight shot, with the exception of a few pieces of furniture. It’s great for kids (and cats and dogs) running and playing. The problem usually comes from trying to stop at either end without causing a major incident, but that is another story.

As I said before, Libby came into our lives when she was four months old. Everyone knows that puppies chew, and puppies bite. As an adult, I understand that to her two things are going on. One is she’s teething, her mouth hurts and chewing makes it feel better. Two is when puppies play with each other they bite. As a puppy Libby did not understand people don’t want their things chewed beyond recognition. I don’t know how many of Katherine’s stuffed animals now are disabled; usually missing an eye and a nose. Libby also did not understand people do not have tough puppy skin and those bites hurt! The kids did not understand Libby was not trying to hurt them by either tactic. By kids, I mean my daughter and my nieces.

I don’t know how many times I would hear shrieks of dismay and then mad running up and down the hall that sounded somewhat like a stampede. The girls would come running with Libby in close pursuit, nipping at them as she went. She thought it was great fun. The girls however did not, but would not listen when I told them that if they didn’t run, she wouldn’t chase them. It was during that time the girls started calling Libby “Piranha Dog.” I have to admit, those sharp little puppy teeth might give a piranha a run for its money.
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As a rule, she doesn’t bite anymore, but as you know, the chewing is another matter.

Nothing new eaten today, but she was out most of the day. However, I did notice when I was making the bed, the beginnings of a perfectly round hole in the flat sheet on my bed. I told Ed. “Look! The one that got away!”

Libby has, after several months of indecision, decided the cats are worthy of play. The cats have not arrived at the same conclusion. Today I heard the same stampede sound coming down the hall toward me in the bedroom. I didn’t see the cat run under the bed but I knew she had because when Libby entered the room, she shoved her head under the bed, tail wagging furiously. That action was also accompanied by the sound of hissing coming from under the bed. I scolded Libby, but felt like telling the cat the same thing I told the kids. “If you don’t run, she won’t chase you.” I wonder if the cat would pay more attention.