Tic Tac Toe and Tequila

Saturday was our puppy meeting at Largo Central Park.  I don't have many photos as Fred was at home repairing plaster and painting the hallway and I had sole control over Captain Crazypants.

Anyway, we arrived at the park just fine.  But, I have to tell you.  These monthly meetings are becoming a a bit stressful for me, especially if I go by myself.  Jam and his nuggets are really having a testosterone party and he is quite drunk with hormones.  So, coming to a meeting is like bringing an alcoholic to Tijuana, leading him into a bar, sitting him on a barstool where there are shots of tequila lined up on the bar and then screaming, "Don't Drink!"

The alcoholic will find it tough to listen to you.

So, I bring Jam (and his raging hormones) to the park where lush females and unneutered males will be gathered to challenge his sensibilities.

I'll just go ahead and say it.  We weren't in the circle of acceptance.  We tried, but we got booted pretty fast.

Sigh. We did obedience, then went by the train and at the end of the meeting we played Tic Tac Toe.  I had Jam sit out the first game.  Yellows won.

Everyone was looking at us.  Jam had to play the next game.  Could he do it and not completely muck it up?

You know, at some point, you just have to say, fine.  OK.  I will be the one with the insane dog.  I walked  Captain Crazypants over to the box and he laid down.

And he stayed.

OMG.

Cheryl and Jam walking to Tic Tac Toe box Photo by Michele Reese.

Cheryl asking Jam to stay in a down on Tic Tac Toe box Photo by Michele Reese. 

Jam maintaining the stay on Tic Tac Toe box Photo by Michele Reese. 

Where's my tequila?  I need a drink!

Cursed with Manliness

Last night, we went over to our friends' house to have dinner and play music.  Claudia was doing all the cooking and I just contributed a dessert.  Fred and Tim were going to provide the musical entertainment. Jam was invited because they live way out in Lutz, they love dogs and know Jam and they are very nice people. 

Jam is trying to get Baxter to come over to where he is lying down on the rug.  

 When we got there, Jam and Baxter, who is a very sweet 3-year old golden retriever, got along great.

Jam and Baxter playing.

 There is nothing quite like young, energetic, frisky dogs playing to make you smile.

And then the humping started. Sorry, you were expecting something sweet for your Easter blog weren't you?

I feel terrible to disappoint you, but the evening just devolved (in terms of the dogs) from there.  At least I won't show you any video or photos of THAT. 8-) Jam couldn't go for more than four or five minutes with out hopping on for a ride on poor Baxter.  Baxter, who is very sweet, would just look around as if to say, "Would someone please stop this whippersnapper?  I know I'm the host, but really!"

Now, when we were at the Walkathon dinner, we happened to run into Dr. Edington while we were walking through the museum.  We had stopped and were talking with John Bauer when Dr. E stopped by and the topic of breeder dogs came up.  We happened to mention that Jam was pretty much a Player with a capital P as he would hump anything that let him.  Dr. E looked at us with a bit of concern and asked if we could stop Jam easily.

"Oh, yes. We just pull him off no problem." Dr. E said that you didn't want to correct for that behavior, because the breeding program wants dogs to be able to perform the act.  In other words: they want breeders that actually enjoy the act and will perform.  Evidently there were breeders who wouldn't or who had to be coaxed to do it.  So you had to be careful not to induce negative connotations with getting them to stop, but you had to stop them when they were doing it because it was inappropriate.

It's a conundrum.

We solved it by putting the ever sweet Baxter on the porch.  Jam went back and forth like a shark from the window to the door looking out the windows at Baxter.

Baxter sat in a patio chair.  He was thinking that perhaps the porch was the better part of the deal.

Claudia's dinner was amazing: a Brazilian feijoada. We all stuffed ourselves!  Periodically we would let Baxter in to see if the dogs could JUST BE FRIENDS.

But no.  After dinner, Fred and Tim pulled out Tim's guitars and started playing.

Tim is on the left and Fred is on the right jamming on the guitars.  They sounded great.

All I can say is that Jam still has no negative connotations associated with the act and is raring to go.

Deep sigh. I hope we get invited over again.  That feijoada was spectacular and Fred really enjoyed playing the guitar.  Perhaps we'll get a babysitter for Jam...