Fluffy (Border Collie x Cattledog puppy) is exactly what Shmoggleberry (cat) isn't. While Shmogg will go to great, almost ridiculous lengths to maintain his dignity, I'm sure Fluffy goes out of her way to prove she has none whatsoever. Shmogg, on the most part, is a serene and graceful creature, while Fluffy falls over her own feet in her excitement. While Shmogg is eating, there is nothing much except for the threat of death that will tear him away from his food, and it has to be along, slow, painful death at that, whereas Fluffy will ignore her food entirely just because she wants to add another layer of dog slobber to my face. Shmogg enjoys a good nap, whereas I swear Fluffy will do anything to avoid staying still.

This diametric opposition has left me somewhat confused. I have re-thought my opinion that dogs are just plain stupid, because I've realised that I've been judging Fluffy's behaviour against Shmoggleberry's, but I'm still amazed at how different dogs are to cats, and I guess I'm still guilty of seeing Fluffy's behaviour through cat-trained eyes. Whether kittens are so *intense* as Fluffy when their young is now beyond my memory. Shmogg has been a quiet, serene, sensible (in the most part, anyway) adult cat for so long, I guess I've forgotten all the dumb things he did in his youthful fervour. Fluffy's antics are a bit of a shock to the system, and I've gained a quiet respect for all those people who become bewildered parents for the first time.

Just like a new parent, however, I'm also a little nervous, and do dumb things myself, particularly when I'm still working in the cat behaviour paradigm. Thankfully puppies are provided with lots of extra skin (I assume they grow into it) and seem to be quite robust creatures. Very thankfully, actually, otherwise I would have killed Fluffy this morning. She's fine, never noticed a thing, but I felt *sooo* guilty.

Fluffy goes "hyper" when she see me the first thing in the morning. She is locked in the garage at night so we aren't kept awake with puppy madness all night long. She seems to be getting better about "leaking" when she gets over excited, but there is nothing that will contain her puppy enthusiasm at the first sight of her beloved masters. Shmogg on the other hand, demands food, gets fed, and then goes back to snoozing again. Easy.

I'm not a morning person, and the pure joy and unadulterated Fluffy energy in the morning makes me a little giddy. I don't know how to deal with it. I want to sit down, get some caffeine into me, and reason to myself exactly why I shouldn't ring in a bogus "sickie" that morning. Fluffy won't let me. I'll never whinge about Shmogg waking me up for a feed again. Boing! Boing! Boing! Its like being bombed with happy bombs. Bloody hell, dog, just calm down. Unlike a cat, the presence of a full food bowl does not distract her at all (I've tried), so the only thing to do is burn that energy off. Not my first choice in activities for the morning.

Out to the back yard, dressing gown now safely sealed with safety pins, as I know Fluffy will tug at the bottom of it and reveal my "assets" to everyone if I don't. I spend a few minutes throwing and then fetching her ball. She loves to run after it, but hasn't quite got the hang of the second half of the game - to bring the ball back. This is not easy in the morning low blood-caffeine haze, so I opt for the less strenuous tug of war. At least I don't have to run up and down the back yard, avoiding the inevitable "mines" that Fluffy has deposited.

What's it to be? The rubber thingy or what used to be my best pillow case? I wave both in front of her, tantalisingly. Fluffy makes her first lunge at the ex-pillowcase, but misses. The second jump & snap grabs the rubber thingy firmly between her needle-sharp teeth, and now the war is on. She tugs and shakes and pulls and jumps. This is an easy game now, but I know its going to get much harder as she grows. She starts to growl with enjoyment as I begin to move around. She's adjusted her grip and she's got the death-grip going, there's not much that will shake it loose. Of course, this is the fun part, human versus dog in a competition of bloody-mindedness and strength. Both of our pulling and tugging get more frantic, I'm egging her on for all I'm worth. Her teeth are bared and the growl is really starting to get some volume. I can see that she's really excited and I hope that once we reach the crescendo, some of that almost limitless puppy energy will have been worn away.

Her tail is going so fast, I can here it slap, slap, slap, hitting her flanks. She's got the doggy equivalent of a runners high. As the madness of tugging and shaking reach their peak, I pull up with the rubber thing, not quite expecting Fluffy to come with it. My goodness, the dog is suspended by her jaw and *still* won't let go! Utter madness! I start to fling Fluffy around a bit, and you can almost see that she's applied her vice-like bike to this rubber thing with grim determination. Nothing will shake her. I start a good "twirly bird", her tail is still making thwap thwap thwap sounds, she's still growling, and I can see that she's won this round of tug-of war. I'm almost completely exhausted, and...

Oh-My-God! I realise too late that the radius of my arm + rubber thingy + dog is too great. She's going to hit the wall! I close my eyes in guilt and horror. I love my Fluffy and, honestly thought she would have let go a long time ago. (Any cat would have) Theres a sick sort of hollow thunking sound as my beloved, gorgeous, silly little puppy hits the solid reality of brick. She lets out the most pathetic of yelps, and slides to the ground. I cannot tell you how horrible and guilty I felt. Such a bad mother, so ignorant, so stupid. My mouth had dried out and the fear, the guilt, the agony...

Until of course, Fluffy got straight back up, gambolled straight back over to me with more enthusiasm than ever, and jumped at the rubber thing again. "More, Master, More!!!". I patted her gorgeous, if incredibly dense head, and shakily excused myself from the playground. I'm very, very grateful and relieved my puppy "bounces".

Copyright © Vicky Chapman
September 10, 1999