Take two bull terriers add a sunny brisk day and you have chaos.  Gavin and Patty were like two three-year-old  kids on a sugar, over activity, and a we-swiped-Mom’s-coffee high.

     Hyperactivity at its worst.  When they weren’t bouncing off the walls and each other The Curmudgeon and I were targets of their over zealous glee and mischievous mirth.

     It was with great relief on our parts when three o’clock rolled around and both were looking for The Curmudgeon to go up for his usual nap.  They were tired.  He went upstairs, both dogs dashed for their crates, and waited for me to shut the doors, give them cookies, and cover the doors with their towels.

     Five minutes later the snores coming from the crates were proof that they aren’t as young as they once were.  They snored for two hours straight.  I had to wake them for dinner.

     Life with Bull Terriers is never dull.  My back is feeling a lot better now.  Then last night Gavin leapt on the foot rest of my chair taking out my ankle, foot, and big toe in the process.   My big toe–bruised, my ankle–slightly sprained, my foot–scratched and bruised. 

     At least I can get around without a problem. 

     “I just hopped up with Mom like always.  Don’t know why she suddenly yelled, ow! Ow! Ow!”  Gavin hanged his head.

    “I hided in my crate so I couldn’t get blamed.”  Said Patty.

     “You always hides in the crate.”   Gavin said.

     Last Thursday I ran Gavin to the vet for his yearly check up and shots.  Yesterday I took Patty for hers. 

     If Gavin was a hoot playing chicken dog, then Patty was a double hoot because she couldn’t decide if she was going to be a chicken dog or a happy dog.

     When we first went in, through a downpour, she was all happy, we had her on the scale a weighed in mere minutes.  Then we went into the exam room.  Patty began to go into a nervous Nelly act.  She did get up on the table for a cookie when I put one up there.  She only needed a little boost at the back end.

     The vet tech took pity on Patty when she began to shake and gave her some sweet talking and a couple of treats.  The tightly tucked tail wagged a little at first then soon went into full helicopter mode.

      When Dr. O walked in he was happy to see she was on the table.  He had her examination completed, took some blood, gave her a shot before she realized it and had a chance to panic, and we were ready to go.

     After paying a whopping vet bill, I took her home and dropped her with DH.

     I was out the door again and off to get my hair cut.  By the time I was out of the salon, it was past dinner time so I decided to stop and pick up something.

Baby Gavin

     Looking at Gavin’s records while getting ready for his yearly check up and shots this week I find it hard to believe he’ll be ten years old in November.  I find it especially difficult to believe after he and Patty run madly about the house chasing each other.

     The picture above was taken when he was twelve weeks old.