It's humid. I like tall trees and short trees, they surround the yard in a dense cover. Now that the leaves are out you can occasionally see a flood light from a neighbor's house, but privacy prevails under spring's greenery. Squirrels squirrel around where I can't see them. Making quite a scene nearby, another domestic squabble.
Sniffing. Around. Mickey walks softly and carries a big stick in his big mouth. His tail wags a lot, and with great force. Surely that thing is bruised end to end. He pants. Pants loudly as his mouth is formed perfectly to amplify it all. Short pants. Long pants. Loud pants. Hot pants. Always hot. He chews. The Harrier Jump Jet Mosquitoes are back in force tonight. His mouth occasionally makes an attempt at them, but the stick is the priority. Clutches the stick. Chews the Stick. Up again. Pants. Pants. Down again. New stick. Longer and thinner. Working the end, he will chew and swallow what he can break free. Some know of his epic feat of swallowing a catnip mouse one Sunday a couple years ago. It remained somewhere inside him (or journeyed inside him) for 6 days and then returned to the outside world in his crate on a Saturday. The mouse was completely intact, little eyeballs still on, little tail in place. So I'm not sure he can digest everything he eats, but it all gets through some way or another.
He is a poster child mutt. Poor childhood. Broken family. Ran away from home in the dead of winter. Wandered the streets (or street) looking for something to do. He had a brother, Brownie. Big brother was bigger and tougher looking but seemed to have the same demeanor. Mickey was scared of anything. Quick to cry and snarl and bite, but quicker still to bounce back with a wag and a pant. Always ready to play. Walk him long enough and he won't start to lag or drag. He'll keep pace then promptly lay down. Enough is enough. He's taken on several names since his arrival. Munster (as in Eddie Munster), Mickey, Mick, Brown, Weenis, Mick Weenis, Shamis McWeenis, Seamus McWeenis, Wiener, Wieiner boy, Mister cute, Super Dog and probably others that escape me at the moment.
He has a problem with empty bowls. He barks at them until they are filled or until he gets tired of barking at them. He is a world champion licker. He gives more baths than he gets. He is half German Shepherd and half anything else you can imagine. He had one white whisker on his left cheek that fell out several months ago. I thought it was quite distinctive and was sad to see that it had gone missing. Happily he grew a new one. His toenails are all black, save for three white ones. He is happy in his crate. He's happy anywhere. He's happiest when he has anything in his mouth. He's a good jumper. He can get a basketball in his mouth.
Twice he has had to wear a big lampshade collar following "incidents." One time his ear got caught in Maggie's mouth. It would not stop bleeding as a little flap of skin kept flopping about drenching everything in blood (primarily the kitchen). As a result, he has a half-moon portion missing from his left ear. Another time he jumped up and knocked over a pot of boiling water from the stove which fell on him. He bit himself trying to fight off the painful attack. He has a few black patches of skin that will never have fur again. In the middle of one patch is the spot where he bit himself. For a time it had healed into the shape of a bone. An apt tattoo for this scrappy little dude.
He loves it when I grab my guitar because he knows we're all going outside. We have plastic Adirondack chairs in the back yard. When they blow over, he chews on the feet and I assume he has eaten at least 5 of the non-skid pads on the bottom of them and a decent amount of plastic as well. He is gangly and fast. He is almost always on the move. He stops for peeing but will will not stop to poop. He eats dirt. He poops dirt. Once he stuck his mouth in a fire ant mound and came inside going absolutely nuts. He doesn't go near fire ant mounds anymore. He's a good learner. There's more. There's always more. It's dark outside now.
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