Welcome to the Dog House.
We have a couple of new additions to the group. My brother and sister-in-law have gone on vacation (they swear they're coming back) and left their very own dynamic duo (Bru the Bruiser and Maximus the Mini) with us at Camp MWV. This is not the first time they've come to stay with us and usually with their visits comes an assorted collection of hijinks and chaos. I've written more than one blog on the subject.
But they haven't been here for a while. In fact, it's been probably about a year since the Fantastic Four have all been together in the same room. Or the same house. They get along reasonably well. Most of the time. Some of the time. Well, there was that once...
Anyway. They arrived on Saturday and our first couple days went very well. The most commonly heard phrases around the house were "Max, stop humping your sister" and "Bru, that's a door."
The biggest trouble we had was with the cats. My cats are reluctantly used to my dogs. They have learned to co-exist although Vader would be much happier if all dogs would simply cease to exist. Needless to say, neither Fat Cat nor Vader reacted well to the sudden appearance of a miniature schnauzer and a saint bernard. Max especially wouldn't leave them alone so Sunday morning I was forced to relocate the cats to the Code Monkey's (the guy formally known as The Man) office. They are much happier now. The Code Monkey, not so much.
But apart from that, things were going well. I was even able to leave a fairly confident Code Monkey home with the entire group while I went to work on Sunday and again on Monday. Things were going so well I was starting to worry that I wouldn't have anything about which to blog.
Then came Monday afternoon. We had just had two separate play sessions and had merged all four dogs together. This same routine worked great on Saturday and again on Sunday so I don't know what happened exactly on Monday but the girls (Bru and the Gator Girl) Got. Into. It. One moment we were all friends and the next, there was a full fledged brawl in my kitchen.
So I waded into the middle of It and broke It up because that's what I do. I had successfully parted the two— or at least I thought I had. They were separated but decided they weren't quite finished with each other yet and wanted to go back for more. Since I was between them, this meant that they ended up tagging me. The Gator Girl bit my wrist while Bru ended up biting the same arm a little further up, just below my elbow.
It hurt. It hurt a lot (truth be told, it still really hurts a lot). So I shrieked. I shrieked a lot. Then I ended the fight. Then I said some not nice words. A lot of nice not words.
I'm not afraid of being bitten by dogs. I've said that before. I've been the person in this picture:
So being bitten is not a big deal to me. But the big difference between that picture and what happened in my kitchen on Monday is the padding. And, you know, the number of dogs attacking me. When I do bite work with my Malinois, it's only the one dog doing the attacking and I have some very nice padding to help cushion the blow. I was not wearing my bite sleeve on Monday afternoon so now I have some very nice bruises forming. And a slight loss of feeling in my pinky finger but really, what good are pinkies anyway?
The really good news is that neither Max nor Big felt the need to get involved. Also, the girls have decided to call a truce. I suspect my use of not so nice words followed by the Code Monkey's use of not so nice words had a lot to do with this. But whatever the reason, let's just hope it lasts the rest of the week.
And I thought I wouldn't have anything to blog about.