Nobody pampers a puppy more than Val. Let's not forget her sweet, sweet Juno, who had a baby afghan all her own, and toys out the wazoo, and canned moist puppy chicken to her heart's content. Everything but an inside bed. And Puppy Jack even had THAT for the first week at his new home. Yes, Val is very protective of a new puppy. Did she not hold him on her ample chest, his little nose snuggled up by her neck, and nap right along with him? Nobody pampers a puppy more than Val.
Most certainly not The Pony.
It wasn't his fault, really, that he used up the first of Puppy Jack's nine lives. All he did was hold Puppy Jack in his arms like a baby, standing in front of the long couch, cooing and sweet-talking him on the second day of our new-puppydom. When out of the blue, Puppy Jack twisted like a corkscrew in a drink-deprived alcoholic's hand, and
TUMBLED OUT OF THE PONY'S ARMS AND ONTO THE COFFEE TABLE!
We looked at each other, The Pony and I, as Puppy Jack scrambled and contorted and uprighted himself there on the coffee table. Let the record show that tears flowed from Val's eyes in sympathy, and The Pony let out an "aawwwww" kind of choking noise. Puppy Jack was okay, though. Despite his hard landing. And I cautioned The Pony that a baby dog was like a baby human, totally unpredictable, and needed a firm grip, and probably would not benefit from a fall of three feet onto a hard wooden surface.
Puppy Jack had a paw in his own second-life scenario. We had him out in the yard, and The Pony went inside to get his food. He purposefully left Puppy Jack down on the ground, so he didn't run around the porch following Juno so quickly that Val could not catch up, lest they went around to the back side of the house where the drop is about 12 feet to the yard. Puppy Jack heard me talking to him. He tried to find me, and ended up on a big fat log that looks kind of petrified. How he got up on that thing I'll never know. It's about 16 inches or more off the ground. Anyhoo...Puppy Jack got overbalanced and toppled off that log. I gasped, thinking he was going to land on one of Hick's flat rock art pieced that he has scattered along his rock garden. But no. Puppy Jack landed smack dab in the middle of a nearby yucca plant, which broke his fall.
The third life loss was not so safe. The Pony and I sat on the front porch pew, talking to Puppy Jack while he trotted around all self-important, tail up and wagging, following Juno to and fro. She stopped for petting, and The Pony and I gave her attention so she knew that Puppy Jack's arrival is a good thing. Puppy Jack stood looking up at her, and got his back legs too close to the porch edge, and disappeared from sight. The Pony and I made eyes at each other. WHAT? We leaned over, and saw that Puppy Jack was up and walking. It's at least three feet from the porch to the ground in that area. The Pony, quicker off the pew than Val, said he landed on his feet! Go figure. Part cat!
Saturday saw Puppy Jack's fourth life pass before our very eyes. The Pony had him on the porch steps, to see if he's ready for climbing. He went down two of them the other day, turning his little body sideways in a kind of a hop going over the edge. Different from the Superman leap he takes, all stretched out, when going off Hick's brick sidewalk onto the rock garden. But this time, The Pony was watching him try to go UP the steps. He helped with the first one, which is a little bit taller. As with all things Hick, nothing is ever uniform. Puppy Jack stood on the first step, tried for a minute to come up the next one, then stumbled off that first step and hit hard on the brick sidewalk, sideways. He got up and staggered a minute, then did his Superman leap to get away from those devil porch steps.
We ARE taking good care of Puppy Jack. Really! No need to call those Sarah McLachlan people. No sad songs needed for Puppy Jack.
Let the record show that between the beginning of this post, and the end, when I went outside to play with him before his supper...PUPPY JACK WENT UP THE DEVIL STEPS ON HIS OWN!