The Skipper and Gilligan

We are from time-to-time a two dog family.

As if Girlfriend wasn’t enough to handle we also have Little Buddy living with us for a spell.

That’s not his real name. It’s just that when the two dogs are together they both remind me of The Skipper and Gilligan.

He is her side-kick. As the Skipper used to say – Little Buddy.

A big, blocky Labrador retriever and a pint-sized terrier mix.

And he’s always making trouble for the steady and reliable skipper.

The Skipper goes out on the lawn to squat to take a leak and he comes along and tinkles on her spot.

The Skipper leaves her Frisbee lying about and he’ll abscond with it resulting in a wild game of keep-away that he ultimately loses.

The Skipper is snoozing on the floor or the porch and he’ll come along and gnaw on her nose until she gives him a whap and sends him flying.

Little Buddy will attempt to mount and hump The Skipper and all hell breaks loose. Little Buddy is all heart.

The two of them get along famously and actually get excited at the mention of each other’s names in the absence of one another.

Little Buddy ordinarily lives with a related family member and he vacations with us when his owners are on vacation.

But unlike Girlfriend - Little Buddy is a city boy. He’s also a momma’s boy – but more about that in a bit.

When he’s with us it’s like sending the city boy away to camp.

There is all sorts of room to run about off-lead. Lots of fresh air and exercise. The world is filled with exotic scents and different scat to sample. There are dark nights lit only by the moon with all sorts of imagined threats to growl and bark at. Get up early and stay up late.

But there is also order and discipline. He has to sleep in his crate and he’s not allowed on the furniture.

He does come prepared with his own chow. And I am cool with that as canines can become accustomed to a certain diet.

Having said that – Little Buddy’s diet includes canned turducken. You know - that southern delicacy made from a chicken stuffed into a duck which is stuffed into a turkey and slowly roasted. A generous supply of which was sent along with him as part of his daily ration. I have never indulged in turducken. Have you? Heretofore I did not know that dogs ate turducken on a regular basis.

That’s not to say that if I dropped an entire, real, whole, turducken on the kitchen floor Girlfriend wouldn’t grab it and run for the border.

But canned turducken for dogs? Lest you not believe it here is the proof.

I swear - I am going to sample this stuff before too long because it smells really yummy when you open a can of it.

On the other hand Girlfriend eats kibble which can be purchased at Fleet Farm in quantities sufficient for a working dog. And she is hardly a picky gourmand.

Make no mistake - Little Buddy is a sweet guy. I just happen to think that he needs spend more time with his burly cousin The Skipper.

You know – toughen him up a bit. Sharpen those soft edges. Indulge his inner wolf.

For instance – he follows my wife around like a shadow. Not me – but the Frau. If she walks to the shed he follows. If she fetches the pick-up truck to haul something he’s right there in the extra cab with her. If she is in the shower he can be found right beside the bathroom door, peering beneath the crack and waiting for her to materialize.

If the Frau leaves to run an errand he’ll tolerate me but wait expectantly on the porch for her arrival. If I leave - I think he’s glad to see me go.

I have a theory about his disdain for me.

I think it is because I used a power saw and nail gun over the weekend and he now associates me – personally – as being the canine kingdom equivalent of Ivan the Terrible.

To top it off - just the other night I went out to the back yard to polish my target shooting with a pistol and after about 14 rounds my lovely wife emerged from the back door to politely ask if I could refrain.

Little Buddy was about to have a heart attack immediately following his tinkling upon the floor.

For The Skipper - gunfire is music to the ears. But my reputation with Little Buddy diminished further.

Yet, with time, Little Buddy is taking to the country life.

Just last night The Skipper and Little Buddy raided a rabbit nest and stoked their inner wolf by dining on bunnies.

As their tummies were full they both went off to bed without supper. No kibble - no turducken.

The Skipper will make a man out of Little Buddy yet.

Just you wait and see.