Monday, June 19, 2006

Nelly's long-lost boyfriend, and other adventures

This weekend I went down to the Oregon Coast with my friend Monica. We met up with our friends from Eugene, whom I haven't seen in over three years, which is just wrong, as they've been my very good friends for nearly 20 years now. It's easy to figure out exactly how long it's been because the last time I saw them, they were pregnant, and now their daughter is three. The famously unpredictable Oregon Coast treated us to some warm, sunny weather, and there's nothing like seeing the wonders of a beach through the eyes of a three-year-old. The drive back along the Columbia River was lovely and green.

I went without Enrico because we just couldn't get our act together to board the dogs, and it was too exhausting to think about taking them. Nelly does not normally play well with other dogs. Just about the only kind of dog she gets along with well is younger, bigger boy dogs. She has always loved her a big, strapping young boy toy, yes indeedy.

She has always particularly loved our friends' dog, Rufus. So much so that we used to refer to Rufus as "Nelly's boyfriend." They would play, and play, at which point Toby - accustomed to being the only dog who gets to interact with other dogs - gets very confused and perhaps a little jealous, and starts to bark. At which point we would have to separate the three dogs - each 60 pounds, at least - into three corners of the room, in some nice quiet down time. But you can't keep true love apart for long, and Nelly and Rufus would gradually but persistently inch, wriggle and heave their bodies towards each other, like enourmous, fuzzy inchworm-seals, until their noses could just touch. It was very sweet. Until Toby started barking again.

However, the thought of managing this dynamic, preventing the dog rompage from taking out the toddler, while simultaneously trying to relax, was just too much. So off I went, leaving the generous Enrico home with the beasties. Rufus is still a very nice boy. I couldn't tell if he recognized the scent of his long-lost girlfriend, though. Perhaps three years is too long for puppy love to endure.

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