This really isn’t a post about anything particularly crafty. How can it be with the holidays in our lap, and I’m penning this on the cusp of St. Nick making his annual appearance? I do know that little things like this make me want to write about cute little critters and adorable kids. Not to mention, it frees my mind to take side trips to places I wouldn’t ordinarily venture.
Last week my daughter did a favor for a friend. She took in their little puppy for the short time they went out-of-town. The friend couldn’t believe her mom and dad were on board with it. A puppy? A not house broken, up in the middle of the night, cute as a button and more baby dog.
Who could say no to that little face? Meet Chicken.
No that isn’t a typo. The little girl who owns him calls him Chicken. No idea why, but he really knows his name after a week at my house. He comes when you call him. Comes running with kisses and sharp toothed little puppy nips. Small and full of life and wiggles all soft and cuddly. And when he comes he jingles, because around his neck hangs a little bell. That’s because he can disappear like a roach and we need to be able to find him. “tinkle, tinkle, tinkle”
Gahhh, I’m such a sap. We loved having him.
We didn’t dare let him off that leash outdoors. Chicken thought the grass was a play field in which he could run, and run, and run, and run. That little dog could run fast for something with such short stubby little legs, too. Cooper raced after him the last time he got away and side-swiped him for me, tumbling him end over end. The little thing rolled and lost his bearings enough he laid on his back, puppy paws in the air, long enough for me to scoop him up.
Chicken is also now a traveling pup. He loved looking out the window as the miles flew by. If he wasn’t somebody else’s little guy, we’d have kept him for good.
Cooper might have had something to say about that, though. He spent the afternoons keeping out of Chicken’s reach. That meant sitting on the edge of the bed where stubby little puppy feet couldn’t gain enough purchase to climb up.
Then when Chicken went home, the house silent of his little bell, Cooper laid around looking rather depressed. After all those evasive maneuvers to keep out of Chicken reach, I thought Cooper would be glad to have the house and us to himself. Evidently even bothersome puppies can endear themselves to older canines…
… and old men. My husband misses ole Chicken.
This lovely distraction is just what my tired brain needs. A rest from the book that doesn’t seem to want to be finished and shot of pure puppy joy.
It’s what we all need.
Happy Holidays to all. I hope all your wishes come true. I know mine have.