Deb's Newsletter Signup


Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Magster the Terrifying

   Photo by Dakota:

     Each morning I am awakened 25 seconds before the alarm clock blares with a greeting by our Yorkie terrier Maggie.  She has the ability to mind read me or the clock, I'm not sure which.  Some mornings I set my wake up call for 6am and on others it's 8 or 9 but she's rarely off her game.  Maggie is driven by one motivating factor, consuming as much food as a ten pound dog can hold.  Actually a ten pound dog can handle quite bit more kibble than you would imagine.  I have pictured her stomach rupturing like an over ripe melon if she were accidentally dropped on the floor, but the protrusion would probably buffer her injuries and she would merely roll over with a deeply contented sigh.
      On the days I choose to live dangerously without setting the alarm, I'll begin dreaming of carrots popping up like Easter eggs all over the back yard.  I'm not kidding.  Drifting lazily in and out of a Sunday morning snooze and a picture will pop into my head with stunning clarity; little baby carrots, all cleaned and pretty, peeking their dewy orange heads out of my lawn.  I never dreamed about vegetables until Maggie, who happens to adore carrots, entered into our lives.  The little dog, with a possibly 5 ounce brain is able to project her wants and needs into my thoughts with very little effort.  I've also had nocturnal images about peeing and pooping in my bed, but I see no need to make this point graphically. 
     My husband and I have lived with two dogs prior to Maggie and Pi, but they both weighed 40 pounds plus.  When we entered the midget dog world we had no idea how the perceived balance of power would change.  I say perceived because all dog owners know that their pet is the actual ruler of the household; we humans are merely allowed the idea that we are smarter and further up the food chain because we have hands and have the ability to open a can of albacore tuna.  But itty-bitty dogs see no benefit in deluding us about who is boss.  When Maggie flies through the air in a venomous rage aimed at Pi, with spit droplets swirling in slow motion artfully about her head and an enormous snarl erupting from her throat, my spouse and I take several steps out of the fray.  Bill says that if Maggie weighed 80 pounds she would scare the crap out of him; the rest of us know that she already does.
     Those few ounces of brain matter are put to more complete use than the 5-8 pounds resting on my shoulders.  I figure I'm using less than a pound of usable material in comparison to the brilliant machinations of our Maggie.  Aside from food she has an insatiable need to make Pi pay for breathing the same air that she intakes.  I don't think she actually wants him gone, because that would mean life would be boring, but I also don't believe she's thought the whole thing through beyond torturing her furry cohabitant. 
     A few mornings after Maggie planted herself in our lives I watched her enact a scene that was to become a recurring feature in our home.  Maggie had been given a new bone and instead of lying in her bed gorging on her treasure, she walked over to a particular spot on the floor and set her bone carefully down.  This seemed odd so I settled into watch the action.  She then stood behind a nearby chair out of sight from the entrance to the room.  Enter Pi stage left.  Pi is not a dumb dog, so he stood for several seconds at the doorway; taking in the lay of the land, his eyes catching for a brief moment on the bone but moving on for any sign of the little auburn terrorist.  After determining that the coast was clear he dashed over to the bone and was intercepted by Maggie who snatched the prize out from under him, just like Lucy with the football and Charlie Brown.  The speedy little dog gleefully ran off, having secured her bone with a superb throw down move.  Pi sighed and looked at me with utter despair and confusion.  When my brilliant plans have been carried away with a tidal wave of God's decisiveness, I must have that exact same look.  I reached over and gave his shaggy head a tousle and we both moved on to other things.

No comments: