The Dogs

Rave (the raging red) and Tuck (a-boo), the clumsy oaf.

Rave suits her name. Everything is a party, though she does occasionally get miffed at me when I don't comply with her attempts at joy.

Tuck is nearly a year old. He's all puppy, and all boy....and nearly killed himself by falling from the neighbor's garage roof. I'd always joked if he were human he'd be the kid who strapped a towel to his neck and would jump off the roof to see if he could fly. What I didn't know was Tuck was listening. (Future post to come).

Tuck isn't the original "black dog". That was Marengo, who I put down this past November. She was 13. She was smart as a whip, cunning, and had the reasoning skills of a small child. Sometimes I wondered if she really enjoyed my presence, or if I was merely her tool for food and fun. I loved her anyway.