Mom met a new friend (Wanda) during our stay at Bogue Chitto State Park. I felt Wanda’s best asset was her big smile and hug whenever she eyed me. Wanda feels her best asset is her pup, Lucy, and treats Lucy like she is the magic in her world. My Mama could learn a thing or two from Wanda, just say’n.
Wanda and Mom are alike in a couple of ways; neither goes anywhere without their furry accomplice, and their nose is constantly in our dog business.
What is worth mentioning and slightly bizarre about Lucy is she looks just like me. Other than the weight difference (96 lbs), she is a mini-me! You’d think we’d get along famously, right? Sadly, not so much.
In Mom’s auto, I must be vigilant. This Lucy girl was sticking her nose in every crease, crevice, and holder she could find. I was on edge. What if Lucy found a wayward crumb of yummy that I’d somehow missed; then I’d bite her, getting my property back. My actions might not break Mom and Wanda’s budding friendship, but I feel there would be a crack. If I bop the tiny one outa the way, so I get the old crusty yummy, it will fall under the heading of “No harm -No foul.” All in all, the real deal of having another dog in my ride is nerve-racking.
Mom and Wanda will spend this warm sunny day shopping and probably eating, which means there will be a lot of Lucy and me time; in the auto, alone. Of course, no one asked the faithful dogs what we wanted. Probably cuz we unitedly would sing the chorus of Leave us napping in the shade by the lake with the occasion squirrel chase, ditty; not the whine of No, I don’t want to spend the afternoon stuck in a hot auto with this idiot.
Here I’m whispering in Lucy’s ear to get outa Mom’s chair so she can drive. Geez, I’m gonna be exhausted if I have to monitor this Lucy dog all day. I decided I need to be paid, so bring on the treats, people, lots and lots of goodies!
One thing Lucy does better than me is lap sit. Look at her sitting all prim and proper. It’s frivolousness at best. I assure you there is nothing prim and proper about me. My body says I’m raring to go play or find trouble so I can protect.
My massive head is more extensive than Lucy’s entire body plus, as you see from the picture, I take up way more space than Wanda. What do you think would happen if I tried snuggling in Wanda’s lap? Probably the same thing that happens when I try to crawl into Mom’s lap (a broken Mom can’t feed me, so I crawl instead of jump). When I try to lap cuddle with my petite Mom, I hear exasperated muffled words like “Ouch, you’re squishing me, and GET OFF, ya big mutt,” while trying to dislodge my bulk.
Mom and I only cuddle if we are horizontal unless you call my gigantic head in her lap cuddling.
You can tell this picture is Lucy cuz she can only hunt for lizards from the bottom to the middle of the woodpile. Me? I smell the bottom and middle, then start at the top, tearing the piled wood apart.
Lucy can barely nudge the wood, while my brute strength and massive paws can scatter any pile of wood or dirt mound into the next county or, in this reality, the next parish.
Lucy and me attended a cast iron potluck. We jumped outa the gator and were immediately tied up. Most people that sauntered by popped a squat to pet Lucy. Those same people looked at me, then at Mom. They wanted an assurance that if they loved on me, all their appendages and digits would stay intact for them to pet another day.
We got sweaty sticky handed affection, but nothing to chew on, nothing to soothe the grumbling of our stomachs while smelling the spiced aroma wafting by, but I heard our moms had some good eats. Sticky hands vs. hot, baked meat pies, cornbread, pot pies, and more. I assure you the moms had a way better time than the dogs.
Lucy is so small that if she laid on the colored strip instead of across, it would be wider than she is. I didn’t want her to feel sad, so I kept my thoughts to me self.
Yes, Lucy is stunted in growth but mighty in attitude. One time we were in a growling, snarling fight over a treat. Picture this: Pint-sized Lucy on her back with me standing over her; both making “I’m gonna kill you” noises. My wet stringy mad slobber is swinging in Lucy’s face. Gravity and cuz dogs can’t spit Lucy’s slobber run down the side of her face. Lucy is obviously disadvantaged, yet she doesn’t give an inch. I respected that moxie and stepped away.
To summarize my mini-me: we look alike, ignore each other whenever possible and try to rip each other’s faces off if food is involved.
That’s all I’ve got to say on the matter.