The term "Blue Dog" can refer to:
a) certain centrist Democrats
b) a series of paintings by Cajun artist George Rodrigue
c) our previously cream-colored "yellow" Lab upon attempting to ingest my dark blue, fine tip, scrapbooking marker.
I have no problem with the first two.
Somehow in the process of breeding the loyalty, enthusiasm and sappy-brown-eyes-to-die-for into America's most popular dog breed they lost the ability to discern edible/inedible.
Her equation is simple, if she can put her mouth in any way around it, somehow she can eventually reduce it to a size which can be swallowed.
The pen, for example, was simply too long to be swallowed in one gulp so it had to be chewed through the center. The fact that this released enough dark blue fluid to create a small lake in the living room did not deter her in the least (she is, afterall, a water dog). Nor was she slowed by the rapid changing of her own appearance. The process was pen - mouth- swallow and nothing could deter it.
I was not home when this occured, but Lily planted a blue paw in the center of my cantaloupe colored blouse within seconds of my arrival. "Look what I did, Mom. What did you do today? Was it fun, too?" She said enthusiastically in one sweeping, soggy motion.
If the thought that this wasn't wonderful ever crossed her mind it was quickly replaced by a happier one. Labs are all about positivity - especially as it relates their spontaneous household crimes.
The cat simply smirked.
He and our last Lab, who was already five years old when he was a kitten, were buds. They slept together in streaks of sunlight on the floor and groomed each other. The cat, Little Bit, even figured out how to remove treats from Smokie's treat jar and drop them on the floor for the dog. He became dog's best friend and relished the role.
Thus he roughly identified the new creature as a possible friend, but was perplexed as to why we would choose such a young and uncontrollable model. It nips, barks, chases and bops him on the head with leaden paws when he tries to groom her.
Most importantly, the new beast demanded and received near constant human attention , as well as a large fraction of the adulation previously reserved for the cat.
Someone clearly made a mistake here. Little Bit wanted the old mellow model. He may not have size or strength, but he has cunning.
Bit recognizes what my expensive scrapbooking tools mean to me as I work with them several times a week. He sees the set of pens, sorted by color gradient and placed in individual looped holders.
He saw his big break when I left one on the scrapping table before I went to work.
"Here, little puppy friend, look what Mom left for you," he coaxed as he slid the marker to the end of the table. "I'm pretty sure this is the most delicious color."
I'm sure he didn't have to say it twice. And that he was likely delighted when he saw the look on Charlie's face on discovering our new blue dog.
It was a technicolor scene I'm sure, the cat green with envy, Charlie red with rage and Lily simply blue with blue. But a clueless blue dog is funny and Charlie's anger melted within seconds.
Even with the huge gap now between the cornflower and midnight markers in my previously prfectly alligned set, I had to laugh too.
At the moment Little Bit is "sleeping" under the covers of our made bed, a lump in the smoothness likely plotting the next Wily E. Coyote caper. Lily is sleeping at my feet. I'm not sure how she got the ink all over her back haunches.
But I know this is not the last such mystery.
It's going to be a long two years before she'll be in the sharing sunbeam mode.




Copyright 2006 Judi Griggs