The wind made his big ol’ ears flap in every direction. He closed his eyes and made his teeth show in a way I’ve never seen before. I could swear Teddy was smiling.
Teddy is the only one of our three dogs who enjoys the dog park. Chimay, I’ve been told, chases the dogs that are chasing balls. Abbey just sits there and watches the world go by, which I can agree is a relaxing way to spend time in a park. Teddy, though, seems to carry around with him the same excitement as a little boy. He is still young (turning 4 soon), just now coming out of his puppy phase, so it’s nice to see him have fun splashing around in the lake.
We weren’t at the park too long this last time before Teddy showed signs of tuckering out. It was over 90 degrees and the sun was out. Fifteen minutes? Maybe twenty? A couple dips in the lake, a few awkward introductions to a group of dogs who made him very nervous, and he was done. After we got home he plopped himself on the cool wood floor and decided he was too tired to eat dinner. He tried, eating only half of it before opting to go back to sleep. We call this his Dead Teddy mode. Nothing will make Dead Teddy budge.
This morning he is back to his normal self. After eating his breakfast, he waited for Abbey to finish up in another room so they could go squirrel hunting together in the backyard. The two often end each morning with a nap in the living room – Abbey takes the floor by the front door and Teddy claims his perch on the back of the couch.
Chimay, the oldest and the most crotchety of the three, often has an impatient look on her face. It’s one of exasperation, sometimes of disbelief, like she can’t understand why she has to live with the other two dogs or, sometimes, even us. At times I think she only tolerates us because I feed her doggie prescription pills laced with peanut butter or rolled in cheese.
But, you guys, sometimes we get this face.