The other title of this entry is “how much trouble can a 12 week old Weimaraner puppy get into”.
Mr.Squishy is the unfortunate nickname I’ve given to MacLeod (Mac-Loud for those who are handicapped in pronouncing Scottish clan names). Mac is squishy-ooshy-gooshy cute. He still pees in his crate, barks at 2 a.m., and does all of the naughty puppy things, but squishy-cute mostly makes up for it.
Saturday morning started early. I got up at 6 a.m. I wanted to take a photo of the prickly pear cactus in our front yard at sunrise for the Instagram weekend hashtag project for this weekend, #WHTgoldenhour. Their rules include capturing something the last hour before sunset or the first hour before sunrise. The cactus in our yard were probably the only plants who loved the uber-hot summer. They bloomed like silk brocade and the seed pods are an especially bright hot pink heading into autumn.
I grabbed the puppies when I headed out the front door. In addition to Mr.Squishy, we have his cousin Emma Jean who is a month older. Emma fancies herself much more mature than her little cousin, though she’ll still rip the wallpaper off the wall and poop on the floor when given the opportunity. The two took off for the other end of the yard, and I got to work with my camera.
Ten minutes later the sun pushed up and a chilly wind started blowing. I was no longer comfortable standing in the front yard in my sock-monkey pajamas. Besides, it was breakfast time for Emma and ‘Squishy.
Apparently ‘Squish decided breakfast was not going to be soon enough. We converged at the front door at the same time. I let Emma in, but stopped MacSquish at the door. He had something in his mouth. Correction. He had something with a tail and feet hanging out of his mouth. Two seconds later there was a crunch and a gulp.
Mac had ground squirrel for breakfast. My Mom’s wise crack was, “no wonder he’s not always hungry first thing in the morning.” Note to self: Buy stuff for tapeworms on Monday. Houston, we have a certified critter hunter.
Later in the day, Emma and Mac went out to play in the shade of our Austrian Pines. Austrians do amazingly well at 7200′. Emma is teething. She has been nibbling on everything, large cold rocks, the wallpaper, toys, ice cubes, antler bones and nylabones. I was working on the privacy fence at the north end of our property. It blew down in a wind storm. The puppies came over and visited with me and were in the general vicinity for most of their time outside.
Flash forward to 6 p.m.
I picked Mac up for some cuddles and he started looking at me with the “puke smile”. The puke smile is the face a dog makes right before they are going to start heaving and throw up. Thankfully we do not have carpet anymore. The puke comes up and it is an interesting assortment of items from the yard. Some twig bits, weed bits, a pebble, bark and a bunch of feathers. Feathers?! Long gray feathers. Go figure. I don’t know if he sacked the bird, or if this was a near miss. He’s too little to swallow a feral pigeon or dove whole. I am still trying to figure out when he had time to perform this amazing feat without Emma and I noticing.
Mac chased the towel around the floor while I cleaned up his mess. He is a typical puppy sometimes. Being a male Weimaraner, we have awhile to wait before the brain fairy comes for a visit. Next weekend we are off to the Cheyenne Kennel Club dog show. Mac and Emma are too little to go. Hopefully they will manage to stay out of trouble while I am gone.