The Reacher Diet

Reacher would never turn up his nose at his bowl of dog food, but his tastes are more far-ranging than the Natural Balance Fish and Sweet Potato grain-free kibble I provide every day. He likes to occasionally snack on a variety of natural “supplements” Mother Nature offers.

I don't believe the things Reacher eats - grass clippings, various leaves, weeds and pinecones, for example, are meant for canine consumption, but Bear Grylls, host of Man vs. Wild, might disagree. I imagine  him advising that all those things (and a lot more) could actually provide life-saving nutrition if a dog or his best friend were ever stranded in some inhospitable wilderness.

 

Of course, this isn’t the case with Reacher. He just roams the backyard.

Reacher is also partial to camellia buds and blossoms that hang from the three bushes in my yard each winter. Nasturtiums are sometimes used in salads, so maybe Reacher is onto something.

He has also consumed his share of mushrooms. The first time I saw him snatch and swallow one I rushed to the computer, Googled “mushrooms and dogs” and found one dire report after another. I imagined we’d soon be on our way to the emergency veterinary hospital where it would cost thousands of dollars to save my Boxer boy’s life. But that never happened.

In fact, Reacher hasn’t suffered at all from his odd diet. So, I’ve stopped worrying about his eating habits for the most part. If Bear Grylls can eat ant larvae and maggots, what’s a pinecone or two?

Evening The Score

With three dogs under one roof there's a lot of roughhousing that goes on, with the operative word being rough.

Panzer is working on solidifying his spot as top dog. He's not there yet, but he's trying. And that means Panzer regularly does things like grabbing a bone or toy right out of Reacher's mouth and taking it for himself.
 
He also enjoys jumping on top of Reacher when he least expects it. Being a Boxer, Reacher likes a good wrestling match, but when Panzer grabs those jowly Boxer lips and pulls it's gotta hurt. I would think it's similarly painful to have one's neck or leg in a fellow dog's jaws. 

Not to worry. Reacher has developed a plan to get even with Panzer's puppy nonsense.

You see, there is an Invisible Fence in my yard, but currently Panzer does not have a "magic collar" of his own and therefore cannot be outside without a leash -- or close supervision. So when Reacher goes out, most of the time Panzer is left behind.

And that drives Panzer crazy. It's obvious Reacher knows this because he seems to delight in doing laps around the house which sends Panzer squealing (yes, dogs squeal, in this case kind of like a stuck pig) and running from window to window trying to keep pace from the inside.

As icing on the cake, Reacher sometimes just sits on top of the railroad ties, which puts him about the height of the living room window. He's content to just sit and stare at Panzer who whines, yelps, barks and yes, squeals some more. It's highly annoying if you're the human on the inside, but awesome if you're the Boxer on the outside.

He may lose a wrestling match or two, but Reacher definitely knows how to even the score.

Girls About Town

We took a walking tour of the grounds.

This being a Saturday, Vega and I had places to go and things to do. First stop, Riverside Farmers Market where we bought a bag of Georgia peaches, homegrown tomatoes and a loaf of fresh-baked ciabatta bread with kalamata olives. I won't be sharing.

We also ran into a few friends, a bonus of these Saturday morning outdoor shopping excursions. Vega didn't have much to contribute to the conversation but she sat politely while I visited.

Love the library!

We stashed our produce in the car, grabbed my library books and strolled over to the library where we deposited them in the dropbox.

Then we walked on to downtown Roswell. The shops weren't open yet but lots of restaurant and business owners were outside getting ready for the day.



Dogs are welcome here.

We passed Diesel Pizza Pub where Vega loves to dine because she's welcome on the dog-friendly patio. To be honest, I'm the only one of us who dines at Diesel, but Vega seems to enjoy the people- and pet-watching. And it's next to the fire station which occasionally provides her with some added excitement.

Another favorite place of hers is Pet Fancy. The animal-loving owners stock a variety of toys, accessories and pet food. Vega was a little disappointed that it was too early to choose one of the all-natural treats from the bakery case. Sorry, girl. Maybe next time.

A natural treat bakery case is inside!

We worked our way down Canton Street and stopped in the square to practice a little obedience. Coincidentally, we ran into another training trio there - Ellie the dog, her owner, and their dog trainer. Vega and I aren't the only ones who know Roswell's the place to be and be seen.

Then we took the scenic route back to the car, winding through the wooded grounds of the Archibald Smith Plantation. This was probably Vega's favorite part of the morning since it included birds, squirrels and chipmunks (no chasing allowed) along with dirt, dead leaves and lots of awesome smells. There was even a self-guided outdoor tour for me available by cell phone.

Vega and I toured the grounds.

After all that it was only 10:30 and the rest of our Saturday was still ahead of us. What more could a couple of girls want? 


 

Dogs At Work

My three office mates.

Reacher, my Boxer, along with Vega and Panzer, the German Shepherds, are considered working breeds. Yet they obviously aren't well suited for writing, editing or emails. Yet they're at work with me every day. It helps that the office is just upstairs from my kitchen.

While Reacher, Vega and Panzer aren't much help with the hands-on aspects of my business, they do provide company for me in this solo operation. They also give me a reason to take a break now and then since I would otherwise have the tendency to power right through the day (and sometimes into the evening) when a deadline is looming.

However, three dogs in the office doesn't mean they always lie quietly at my feet, lulled into a trance by the clicking of the keyboard. In fact, there are times when they are chasing each other from my desk, into the hall, down the steps and back up again.

When I'm on a phone call, inevitably a disagreement breaks out over which one has rights to a particular bone. I just give them the evil eye, sign "shhhh" by putting my finger to my lips and shoo them out of the office while attempting to keep track of my conversation. Depending on the decibel level I sometimes have to offer the client an explanation for the ruckus.

When I explain that I share my office with three four-legged friends, the usual response is, "You're one lucky dog!" 

I think so, too.

I Spoke Too Soon

Turns out I was a bit premature in my Growing Responsible blog a few days ago about Vega and Reacher. I had given them a "Get Out of Jail Free" card instead of crating them every time I left the house. Amazingly, both dogs were performing spectacularly.

Until today.

Reacher chewed the toe off one of my shoes - J-41 Jeep-engineered sneakers described in an advertisement as "a casual sporty style designed for everyday use whether you're playing outside or running around town. The pull-on design makes it easy to get going when you're in a rush."

The right shoe is ruined. So, now I'm down to just a left J-41 which really won't allow me to play outside or run around town whether I'm in a rush or not.

How do I know Reacher is the culprit? For one thing, he had "I AM GUILTY" written all over his cute Boxer face. In addition, these sneakers have a rubber outsole. And he has destroyed a rainbow of rubber flip-flops in his short life. It's part of his M.O.

So for now, it's back to the slammer for Reacher when I have an errand to run or someplace to go. I'm not sure if he'll ever be up for parole again. 

Achoo!

The other day Reacher started sneezing. The day after, the sneezing lessened, but he had

a cough. Then that cleared up, but the sniffles began. 

Hmmmm .... Can dogs get colds?

Since it was the weekend when his symptoms began, the vet's office was closed and I was hoping to avoid the dreaded and expensive trip to the animal emergency hospital, I turned to the next most reliable source for help: the Internet.

I just Googled "do dogs get colds" and voila, I got 118,000,000 hits! All sources seemed to agree. Yes, dogs do get colds. And the symptoms for a dog are pretty much the same as for a human -- sneezing, coughing, runny nose and possibly runny eyes.

Reacher's eyes are fine. And he hasn't been lethargic or refused food or water. Quite the contrary. He is eating, drinking and playing as usual. In fact, he is is sticking to his exercise regime of doing his daily laps around the house. And he's started a new hole in the yard that's getting larger and larger by the day.

Being the responsible dog owner that I am, I did call Reacher's vet on Monday. She said unless his symptoms continue beyond a week or worsen there's no need to bring him in. So hopefully, the cold will disappear as quickly as it began.

In the meantime we'll both have to put up with his runny nose. I try to wipe it since Reacher's not good with a Kleenex. But like most young boys, he prefers to take care of it himself. In his case though, he uses his tongue.

Growing Responsible

The Sentry

I've gotten brave recently and have been allowing Reacher and Vega to roam the house when I leave. It used to be that I'd have to crate them lest they destroy one thing or another while unattended.

All I have to say is: so far, so good. I'm not sure why I decided to throw caution to the wind and give this plan another whirl. I've tried it before on several occasions .... with poor results.

Not so long ago, Vega chewed an impressive hole in my new duvet cover and the down comforter underneath. I knew something was up when I came home and saw tiny white feathers sticking to her lips. She's also eaten a 30-year-old starfish that was a momento from my honeymoon in Cozumel, Mexico.

She's been fond of books as well. The incident that disappointed me the most was when she devoured an old copy of "A Child's Garden of Verses" that belonged to my mother. I'm pretty sure Vega didn't appreciate the illustrations or the poetry.

Then there's Reacher. In the past, he hasn't necessarily waited until I've left the house to do some damage. He would just slip into an unoccupied room and help himself to a pillow, sock, roll of toilet paper, a flip-flop or two, you name it. And like Vega, he was a book lover, too. 

I started by leaving them uncrated for just 30 minutes to an hour at a time. They are slowly earning my trust. Maybe it's because they're maturing: Reacher is about to turn two and Vega is two-and-a-half. Who knows.

In any case, I'm glad I've got Vega patroling the premises. (Let's face it, Reacher is just there to keep her company). In the past, I've been tempted to post a sign: "A protection-trained German Shepherd guards this property. Please let her out of the crate upon breaking and entering."

Taking Turns

Panzer (left) and Vega are worn out from chasing tennis balls.

When you're Vega and Panzer, an evening chasing tennis balls is about as good as life can get. 

Since the rain cooled things off a bit this evening, I leash up both of my German Shepherd dogs, pocket two tennis balls and stuff one "Chuckit" plastic ball launcher inside the waistband of my shorts. I bring the ball launcher as much for Vega's and Panzer's sake as for my arm's sake, because as my father once told me, "You throw like a girl." 

As soon as I send one ball sailing both dogs are off like a shot. They don't seem to understand that there's a ball for each of them and that I've already got the second one locked and loaded. So I wait. 

Vega's a bit faster - or maybe Panzer just defers to his mother - but in any case, she grabs the ball and races back with Panzer hot on her heels. 

She drops the ball at my feet, they look at me expectantly and I explain how this game can work for both of them. I show them the two  balls. I tell them I'll throw both in quick succession, one for each of them.

Then I let the first ball fly. It's immediately obvious my instruction fell on deaf -- or should I say dog - ears. 

Vega's in the lead so I call out to Panzer. He turns his head and I send ball number two in his direction. Vega snatches up ball number one. Panzer grabs ball number two. They both return their respective balls to me. And all is right in the world.

We continue in this fashion until their tongues are hanging out and their panting is heavy. If alone, Vega would tire of this game of her own accord. The same for Panzer. But when I bring them together, chasing the tennis ball becomes a competitive sport. And neither dog is willing to be the first to give up.

Being the leader of the pack, I have the good sense to call it an evening. We all walk home. The dogs are worn out and spread themselves across the floor where, lucky for me, they've been ever since. 

Turns out, Vega and Panzer are right. An evening chasing tennis balls is about as good as life can get - for a dog owner and her two tired dogs. 

Rain, Rain, Go Away

On rainy days, the energy that Reacher, Vega and Panzer usually expend on a brisk walk or a good run gets channeled indoors. And while I am perfectly content to curl up with a good book when the skies open up, the dogs don't see things quite the same way.

So, what's a three-dog owner to do when facing a forecast of 100% rain all weekend long? Throw caution - and good sense - to the wind.

That means heading to the dog park with all of them - because no one else is fool enough to be there.

The park is polka-dotted with puddles, not to mention mud, and the rain continues to come down at a steady pace.

Neither Reacher, Vega or Panzer seem to notice. They have the place to themselves and take off at a dead run once the enter the gate. They spend the next hour or so chasing balls and each other.

I am wearing a rain slicker, so even I am enjoying myself, mostly because I am enjoying them. And of course, I am looking forward to a quiet evening with that good book I mentioned earlier.

As time ticks by, the dogs are becoming muddier and muddier, but I prefer to think of it as more and more worn out.

When I deem they are tired enough, I call it a day and herd my three friends back into the van. Once home, I corrall them one by one into the shower for a good scrub. Of course, following that procedure a thorough bathroom scrubbing is required as well as a load of laundry to wash and dry the dog towels.

To those of you who may not think all that work was worth the effort, I say you're all wet.



  

Missin' The Mayhem

Our family's first wedding was just around the corner. Lots of friends and family were coming to town for the big event.

And those folks would be in and out of the house on their way to and from the various activities. So, the decision was made to send my two four-legged boys to camp. In other words, they were agoing to be kennel bound - in both senses of the word.

Vega, being the chill girl of the house was allowed to stay home.

Reacher has had the pleasure (or pain) of being at the kennel only once before. Judging from his body language when I dropped him off, I'd say he remembered. He was acting a little bit nervous. Panzer, unaware of the plan, was his usual hectic self and ready for action.

As I already knew, having just one dog in the house makes feeding time easier. It eliminates the need for tag-team walking. And there's no around-the-house races or wrestling matches to break up because they've gotten out of control. Fewer dogs, means less dog hair and therefore less cleaning. (In fact, while the boys were gone, I didn't pull out the vacuum for two days!)

Admitedly, Reacher and Panzer are the troublemakers in the family. And with those two in the house, it's like the Allstate commercial says - mayhem is everywhere. But what's life without a little mayhem? A little bit lonely, I'd say. 

Mr. Big Mouth

Singing for their supper.

When Vega's puppies were born nearly nine months ago, one thing that surprised me most was how vocal they were. Who knew that those hours-old, tiny black bundles could make that much noise. They were my personal chorus of puppies.

They didn't get any quieter as they grew. In fact, a sleeping mound of pups could erupt into an ear-splitting storm the instant anyone opened the door to their doggie nursery. Judging from the barking, whining and squealing that Panzer does today, I'd say he was the one leading the charge.

Unlike Reacher, he is guard dog extraordinaire. Maybe a bit too extraordinaire. He barks at anything that moves. Dog walkers, joggers, bike riders. Panzer's not particular. It's like he's shouting, "Get outta here! I mean it! Right now!"

At bedtime, if he ends up in his crate rather than in a bedroom with the white noise of the ceiling fan to muffle the night sounds, he raises a ruckus whenever the house creaks, the wind blows or the freezer's ice maker turns out its cubes.

And every time he gets a chance to chase Reacher around the yard, he squeals like a stuck

pig. From excitement, I presume.

There's silent Reacher on one hand and big mouth Panzer on the other. Maybe that's why the two of them get along so well. Opposites attract.

Panzer: "I hear something." Reacher: "Whatever."

The Strong, Silent Type

Looks like a guard dog, acts like a clown.

Some dogs, like the Basenji, don't bark. Others, like Reacher, choose not to. 

For example, a stranger and his dog are walking up our street. Reacher sees them. Does he bark?

No. He watches expectantly and as the pair gets closer, his nub of a tail starts twitching and it's obvioius from the expression on his face that Reacher is hoping the two have come for a play date.

Or consider this: An  unfamiliar truck pulls into the driveway. A repairman gets out, walks up to the door and rings the bell. Reacher sees it all from the window. Does he bark?

Of course not! He waits, hoping I'll let the fellow in and that maybe he's brought a bone.

Boxers are said to be instinctive guardians and naturally protective of home and family. My previous Boxers were just that. In the case of an approaching stranger, either one would have charged down the driveway or to the door, leading with that broad, muscled chest and barking in that deep Boxer voice.

Reacher would rather not.

But what he may be lacking in watchdog qualities he makes up for in exuberance, energy and clownish behavior. Watching him run is a delight. And when he bounces like a spring or shivers with sheer excitement, it's sure to bring a smile to anyone's face.

Reacher is no sentry or lookout or guard dog. He's got Vega and Panzer for that.

In The Mood For A Walk

The scene during our morning walk.

Having a couple of dogs is kind of like having two personal trainers. Ready or not, here we go walking.

 

Reacher and Vega are anxious to hit the road no matter what. Of course, it's good physical exercise for all of us. And it's an activity that puts me in a good mood for the rest of the day. 

 

At this time if year, the view is vibrant green, the honeysuckle is fragrant and wildlife is all around. I am lucky to live in a neighborhood with walking trails, a 53-acre lake and a river that runs alongside it. So, it's easy to stay mostly away from traffic and take a walk with Mother Nature.

 

That means on a typical morning walk, we not only see the usual squirrels and birds, but deer, blue heron and the occasional beaver. There's a resident flock of Canadian geese (that should probably be renamed Southern geese since they never fly back to Canada), that currently includes several families with young goslings. And this morning, I counted nine baby ducklings waddling along after their mallard mother heading for a swim.

 

Reacher and Vega are as interested in seeing the wildlife as I am. Admittedly, they would rather chase it than merely look at it. But they're good sports, mind their manners and keep on walking.

 

The sun was shining bright today. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The humidity, thankfully, was low. The three of us covered a couple of miles. And as my heart rate went up I could feel my mood going up right along with it.

 

 

Split Personality

From an early age, Panzer has been vying for the position of top dog in the household. Months ago, both Reacher and Vega outweighed him by more than 20 and 30 pounds, respectively. But that didn’t stop the little tank.

Panzer has never had any qualms about snatching a bone, ball, toy, stick, or his favorite treat – an ice cube – away from his larger and more mature housemates. He doesn’t even respect his mother Vega’s possessions, although she is apt to firmly remind him of his place in the pecking order. Panzer, however, is not deterred.

He enjoys picking a friendly fight and instigating wild wrestling matches. He bulldozes his way out the door ahead of the other two dogs whenever possible. He also waits when Reacher is the only one outside and is poised to pounce when his Boxer buddy tries to come back into the house. And Panzer loves to chase both Reacher and Vega through the house or around the yard, depending where they all are.

On walks, he barks at other dogs and owners alike as if announcing, “I’m Panzer. You better watch out!”

That’s why I was apprehensive when my son suggested we take him to the dog park with Reacher. Reacher loves to run and chase while he’s there, but he’s a very friendly sort. While Reacher would never have a chance of taking top honors in the confirmation ring at Westminster, I am certain he would receive the "Mr. Congeniality" award. Panzer on the other hand, maybe “Biggest Bully.” Or so I imagined.

At the park, Panzer was a different dog. He was leery of the other dogs and was only willing to play with Reacher. But Reacher was in his element and had places to go as well as  people and other dogs to see. If only dogs could talk, I’m sure Reacher would have told Panzer “Buzz off, little man. This is my turf."

Panzer, usually an avid ball-chaser, would chase the tennis ball only if no other dog appeared interested. As the ball sailed through the air, Panzer looked around and backed off if any dog -- big or small -- even glanced in the ball’s direction.

He was more than happy to trot back to my side, just sit and watch the action all around. If I could only take that Panzer back home.

Dog-Tired





By 5:30 pm, our three four-legged beasts were dog-tired. All three, all at one time.

Panzer was passed out. Reacher was resting (a rarity). Vega was virtually gone. It was more than a Kodak moment. It was a Kodak evening.

 

That what's you get when an extra-long training session, a winding walk along the nature trail and a ball-chasing outing all happen on the same day. Then of course, there was glorious sunshine and spring temperatures. For man, woman or beast, a day can't get much better than that.

 

In between activities, Reacher and Panzer were their usual rambunctious selves. Vega was more than happy to join in the fray. There was no crate time. And the two boys don't really understand how to chill out unless they're on lockdown. So, no rest for the weary.

 

As the day wore on, it was obvious that even Reacher and Panzer were winding down. After dinner, the two of them plus Vega each found a comfortable spot and were silent until bedtime.

 

The humans in the house enjoyed a rare quiet evening. I think the proverb has got it right - with a minor adjustment: Sometimes it's best when dogs are seen and not heard.

 

 

 

Mars or Venus?

Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus is a book from the 1990s about the differences between the males and females of the species – homo sapiens, that is. Judging from the goings-on in my household, there seems to be definite differences between the males and the females of canis lupus familiaris, too.

The boys—Reacher and Panzer—are rough and tumble. In fact, the more roughhousing and the more tumbling, the better. They are boisterous, pushy and antagonistic, at least to one another. They are forever stealing bones, toys and tennis balls from whichever of the other two dogs has one. They love to chase and be chased around the furniture and in and out of every room in the house. Bite, nip, growl? You bet!

Vega, on the other hand, is more subdued. Before I even met her, she was described to me as “chill.” At the time, I figured it was probably an optimistic rather than a truly accurate portrayal of her personality. But I was wrong. Vega is the epitome of the word. She is perfectly content to lie on the floor while the two males in the house spin out of control.

Reacher and Panzer don’t get that. They want Vega to join in the fray. While Reacher generally limits himself to a pleading combination of whining and barking, Panzer is more direct. He literally throws himself on top of her which usually results in a stern motherly rebuke. Vega does enjoy a certain amount of wrestling and chasing, but she rarely initiates trouble.

Don’t get me wrong. She is a working GSD at heart and gets fired up whenever she detects what she deems suspicious behavior from a strange dog or human. The change in her is kind of Dr. Jekyl- and Mr.Hyde-like, minus the evil mental disorder.

But when it’s just the four of us in the house and Reacher and Panzer are going at it, Vega often looks at me woman to woman, as if to say, “Boys. We’ll never understand them.”

My Puppy, The Tank

David and Panzer

Some names fit the person, place, thing – or dog – they’re attached to. Take Panzer, for example. In case you’re not up on military history, Panzer is the name of a German tank used extensively in World War II. It's also the name of my German Shepherd puppy.

Don't get the wrong idea. Panzer the puppy doesn't look like a tank--wide and low. He performs like a tank.

That means he's tough. Or at least he thinks he is. He barrels through gates, intimidates visitors and isn't afraid to take on either Reacher or Vega who have 18 and 28 pounds on him, respectively. Panzer is fearless, relentless and bold. He'd rather go looking for action than sit idly by.

Many German Sheperd dogs are actually trained and used by the armed forces. This puppy isn't headed for miltary service. But when he's grown,Panzer's power, speed and size, like the tank he's named after, will help make him the working dog he was bred to be.

All Ears

Mid-December.

Panzer's ears were a work in progress in mid-December, but now they're a work of art. They've been standing perfectly at attention for several weeks now and we're confident they're going to stay that way. 

While they were headed in the right direction at three months of age, we had our doubts that Panzer's ears would ever reach their full potential. Maybe that's because one was seriously leaning to the left, reminiscent of the Tower of Pisa.

It wasn't long after the picture on the left was taken that the right ear stood straight up. But for some reason, it began to wilt in early January. Taking a cue from its mate, it tipped inward. For awhile the two ears formed the perfect teepee on top of Panzer's head. Not a good look for a GSD -- or any dog for that matter.



Late January.

Of course, Panzer wasn't worried about his appearance. He's much too busy to check himself in the mirror. It was us humans who remained on ear watch. Little by little though both ears straightened themselves out. Now the pair is pointed heavenward in answer to our prayers.

A Frozen Attraction

Why buy Milk Bones or Pup-Peroni Snacks when there’s ice? It’s Panzer’s favorite treat. We discovered his affinity for frozen water when the refrigerator’s ice dispenser spit out an avalanche of cubes one evening and a number of them hit the floor. Ever since, Panzer’s been hooked.

 

He now recognizes the sound of the ice dispenser and comes running even if he's in the midst of a heated wrestling match with Reacher. There are also times when Panzer seeks out ice on his own. He jumps against the refrigerator where the dispenser is, but right now he's not quite tall enough for his paws or nose to push the button that activates the machine. As soon as he gets a few more inches on those legs of his I'm certain he'll figure it out.

Panzer is quick to snatch the ice cube out of your hand or off the floor, but then he drops it just as fast. He loves it when that chunk of ice skates across the tile like a hockey puck. More often than not it ends up beneath the lip of a cabinet or in a corner. That’s okay with Panzer. He's happy to paw it out which usually sends it sliding sideways. Then Panzer's on his way, too.

 

It’s hard to know whether Panzer considers ice cubes toys or treats. He actually eats some of them. Others he allows to melt. That's fine with me. It's preferable to mop up a what-used-to-be-an-ice-cube puddle than the other kind.

 

King of the Stairs

Unlike lots of children today, dogs don’t need television, video games or computers to keep them entertained. They don’t even need expensive toys from the pet store to have fun.
 

They make up their own games and most of them require absolutely no equipment. Just dogs. Reacher, Panzer and Vega regularly chase one another around the furniture, play a dog-version of tag and have three-way wrestling matches. Recently, the two boys have put a new spin on the children’s game, “King of the Hill.” You  might know it as "King of the Mountain" or "King of the Castle." In this case, it’s “King of the Stairs.”

Just like in the children’s game, the object is for Reacher or Panzer to claim the landing at the top of the steps as his own. The other player, that is the other dog, attempts to knock the current “King” off the landing and take his place, thus becoming the new “King of the Stairs.”

In the human version, the "king" is usually removed by pushing, although there are rougher variations where kicking or punching are allowed. When Reacher and Panzer play, it’s no holds barred. There’s lots of snarling, biting, nipping, barking, lunging and anything else that might cross a dog’s mind. The canine "King of the Stairs" is much more aggressive than the children’s game, but even more enjoyable—if you're Reacher or Panzer.

Having dogs that keep themselves occupied is a good thing. Although sometimes it would be nice if they would lie down quietly and watch a little TV.

The Chase

The Daytona 500 is coming up February 24. But the Great American Race has nothing on Reacher and Vega who compete almost daily on the raceway in our yard. Reacher is really the track star in the family. He loves to run. Just for the fun of it. And he can often be seen sprinting around and around the house as fast as his four legs will carry him. All by himself. Just because.

He loves it even more if Vega joins him. More precisely, he loves it when she chases him. While he's in it for the racing, she's in it for the chasing. For the catching, actually. She likes to grab Reacher by the collar, then twist, twist, twist, until she's got him pinned to the ground.

Whatever. He's good with it as long as there's a lot of running first. While Vega is without a doubt the faster of the two on the straightaways, Reacher has her beat on the curves and the turns. She can't quite compete with him when he dodges in and out of bushes and around trees. 

Most of the time they circle the large pine island in the front yard. That's where Reacher has the advantage and can keep Vega running after him for the longest period of time. While he doesn't have a set course, he usually starts by zipping past the azaleas, along the edge of the railroad ties, around the tall pines and back again. He may dodge across the open space in the middle if he's feeling particularly fast.

Eventually though, he makes a tactical mistake, or maybe he just slows down a bit. At any rate, Vega always catches him. After some good natured wrestling, Reacher somehow manages to get away. And it all starts again.

Reacher never seems to tire of this game of tag. It's Vega who always calls it quits. Never one to take no for an answer, Reacher barks at her, runs at her and does whatever he can to goad Vega into one more chase.

More often than not, she just turns and gives me a look that says, "Who can understand boys?" before trotting to the back door. That's my girl!

Three Ring Circus

Last year at this time, it was just five-month-old Reacher and me. As I recall, he was so darn cute, but a holy terror. Oh, those were the days!

Now, there are three dogs in the house--Reacher, Vega and her four-month-old puppy Panzer. Three dogs; one three-ring circus.

As the the youngest and the smallest member of the troupe you might assume Panzer defers to the two big dogs. But you'd be wrong. Panzer is not only dreaming of becoming the alpha male in this household, he seems to be making it his mission.

He sometimes pounces on Reacher and takes hold of those jowls in his sharp puppy teeth and won't let go. He delights in jumping on Vega when she's lying quietly which starts a mother/son wrestling match. And he steals bones from whichever dog happens to be gnawing contentedly, then dives for the cover of the coffee table. The kitchen is still cardoned off with three gates, but Panzer just muscles right through whenever the spirit moves him.

Reacher is an action lover himself and appreciates a friendly fight. And Vega, while generally not an instigator, doesn't hesitate to join in the fray. There is often a three-way game of chase around the kitchen table. Or when the gates have been flattened, a German Shepherd, a Boxer and a 31-pound German Shepherd puppy race through the kitchen, living room, dining room, foyer. Then repeat! Naturally, there's growling, yipping, barking and snarling to go along with it.

I guess things could be worse. There could be Panzer and his seven other puppy brothers and sisters, plus Vega and Reacher. That wouldn't be a circus. That would be a zoo.

Jumping On The Bed

Reacher seems to think he has a right to hop on my bed anytime the spirit moves him. And when Vega is chasing him through the house Reacher uses the bed as "base," because Vega follows the rules and doesn't jump on the furniture. Until recently.

Today, Vega shocked Reacher and me by hurdling after her favorite Boxer buddy. Game on! Sometimes it's a madhouse around here.

The wild scene reminded me of the children's poem "Five Little Monkeys Jumping On The Bed." Not to be outdone, I've written my own version, canine-style:

TWO BIG DOGGIES JUMPING ON THE BED

 

Two big doggies jumping on the bed,

When Mama saw that pair she saw red: 

"No more doggies jumping on the bed!"

Two big doggies get down with a hop

Watch out now, they're back on top.

Mama yells, "Doggies, you two must stop!"

Two big doggies listen no more.

"It's no fun just being on the floor!

Please Mama, please, just walk out the door."

Two big doggies decide it's time to quit.

They don't want Mama to have such a fit.

Vega lies down; Reacher just sits.

"We're sorry Mama, just count to ten.

Whatever you do, don't lock us in a pen.

We will NEVER jump on the bed again!" 

 

Two doggies think it's time for something new.

Don't look now, but Reacher's got a shoe!

My, oh, my. What's this Mama supposed to do?