The Dynamic Duo

I have a riddle for you. Here are some clues:” I am adorable”. No, UltraBob, its not Beaker. “I have black eyes and when I run, My ears kind of fly out, like bat ears.” No, UltraBob, still not Beaker. “I am furry, cuddly, but do not shed.” NO, ITS NOT BEAKER! “I weigh 3 lbs and my brother is already a much loved member of this household.” No, UBob, it is not Jim. You are a really bad guesser. Give up? Its Rowdy, our new 5 month old toy poodle puppy! The much loved brother is, of course, Murphy, who has the same birth parents…...........as well as the same adoptive parents, come to think of it. As of today, Murphy and Rowdy have something else in common. They have both made the rite-of-passage journey to the vet to be “tutored.”
We weren’t really looking for another dog, but this little guy “had me at hello.” As I occasionally watched him for my sis-in-law, Pat, I observed more than once that if anybody could tempt me to have another pet, it was this fellow. Though the runt of the 3-puppy litter, Stetson, (for such was his name before I “rescued” him) was fiesty and playful. And he was just so darn cute with those black sparkling eyes and the quirky ears that tended to cock upwards. When I offhandedly mentioned this to UDad, however, I got no encouragement, so I didn’t pursue it. After all, we already had the perfect dog, and Murphy never complained about being an only child.
Time went by, and Pat sold the girl puppy, Lily. Stetson’s much larger brother, Boots (aka Oliver) went to the excellent home of some dear friends of mine in Idaho. Pat had already decided to keep Maverick, a small “silver” poodle pup from a different litter. He would be one of her new stud dogs since his dad, Rocky was no longer “with us.” Perhaps, she mused, she should keep Stetson as a stud too. She gradually came to see this as a bad idea as Maverick and Stetson got into fight after fight. They were just about the same size and seemed well matched in ninja fighting skills, and the fights usually lasted til someone broke them up. It was plain she could not keep them both if she didn’t wat to come home someday to a badly injured, if not dead, puppy, so she made me a very generous offer. “You can have Stetson if you want him. Otherwise I have to get really serious about selling him.” And she had just paid for his rabies shot. Sweet.
Udad was there, so I asked his opinion. “I don’t care,” he offered helpfully. “Do what you want.” And that was how Stetson, rechristened by UltraDad as “Rowdy” came to live in our household.
When we first brought him home to stay, Murphy didn’t seem to quite understand. “This has been fun, ” he seemed to be saying, “but don’t you think its time to take him back now?” Everytime Rowdy picked up a toy, Murphy rushed over to take it away from him. When Rowdy went to the food dish, Murphy ran snarling in and began eating as if he hadn’t seen dry dog food nuggets for a month.
When Rowdy slept next to me on my bed, Murphy had to be just a little closer. But Murph did seem to enjoy the chasing and wrestling.
Rowdy, for his part, likes to follow Murphy around and snuggle up next to him, if permitted. And he doesn’t always tolerate Murphy’s preemptive behaviour. More than once I have seen him rush in barking with a sudden snarl and snatch away the chew bone that Murphy had temporarily released in astonishment.
Walks have become more challenging holding two leashes, while two little apricot poodles indulge in a maypole-type dance, weaving the leashes around and through my legs. About a week ago, I decided to see how Rowdy would behave riding in my bicycle basket. I decided to put him in there with Murphy, who was a bicycle-basket-riding veteran to allay his fears. Rowdy sat there like an old pro while Murphy jumped about whining and squishing Rowdy into the corner. Without Murphy, he was even better. Johnny recently told me these stories kind of sound like “Goofus and Gallant” of Highlights for Children fame. He says spoiled rotten Murphy had a pretty good thing going until perfect little Rowdy came along and ruined everything. I’m sure I don’t know what he is talking aboot, eh?
In the trick department, however, Murphy has the newcomer beat solid. We have been working on the “sit” command for several weeks now. While Rowdy stares longingly and occasionally lunging at the treat, I repeat “Sit, Rowdy” and push his little bottom down. Meanwhile, Murphy is sitting, shaking hands, dancing, and rolling over. Now who’s the Goofus?
The transition seems to be nearly complete. It seemd only a couple of days before Rowdy realized he was here to stay. Now when we visit Pat’s, where he lived for the first 5 months of his life, he is as vigilant as Murphy, watching me like a hawk to make sure he will not be left behind.
So lets all welcome Rowdy into the family. And…...UBob? Don’t you think he needs his own place on the “leaderboard”?

UltraMom

Brothers…....Can you tell?

Rowdy is actually a Popple