Ramblin’ Prose

Pippin is a different dog when he takes a walk with the girls. He’s actually excited. When it’s just me or just Susan and especially at night, it’s nearly impossible to get him to go more than a few houses down the block. But get the girls involved, and he’s chompin’ at the bit to explore. There’s a pep in his step.

As a puppy, or a dog in general, he likes to sample the street - anything that happens to be available to taste or chew, he’s on it. He’s particularly fond of used gum, paper, plastic and pine bark. Not a very discriminating palate.

I’m hysterical when walking with the girls when they see Pippin manage to scoop up something off the ground. They mob him. Camille, not much bigger than he is, is the most aggressive. She’ll attack with vengeance. Her brow furrows. She grits her teeth. And she’s fast into action. She grabs his muzzle and calls for assistance from Abby. They share retrieval duty, taking turns reaching into Pip’s mouth to pull out objects.

Camille: “Abby, he’s got something! No, Pip! No!”

She dashes over to him, grabs him by the muzzle.

Camille: “Abby, get it!”

Depending on whose turn it is, and I don’t keep track, one of them will pry open Pip’s mouth.

Abby: “He’s got gum! Camille, get it!”

With the smaller set of hands, Camille has no problem reaching in past the sharp puppy teeth to grab it.

Camille: “Ewww, that’s nasty!”

The dog doesn’t know what’s hit him.

They then spend a little bit of time examining each item.

Now, if only I could get them that excited about cleaning their rooms.