... began the note from the dog walker this afternoon. I was hoping it had more to do with the fact that we had a 30 minute play time over my lunch break... and less to do with, well, what actually happened.
The evening started off nice. As per usual, they were excited to see me. We hugged, danced, kissed, etc., etc. I was able to enjoy my dinner in peace and catch the end of Ellen without interruption. My plan was to then do a quick Valentine's Day card photo shoot, which actually went swimmingly. But to bribe them into good and photo-worthy behavior, I had to bring out the chewies. Then all hell broke loose.
Nugget just hoards his chewies, which infuriates Oscar. He obviously doesn't see the point of saving the chewy until one is in the mood to enjoy it. So he barks. And he barks. And he barks. And barks. And barks, barks, barks, barks. Soon, he pounces and then the battle begins. Everyone is standing on two hind legs, mouths on throats, growling, squealing, barking, more growling, slamming to the ground, more growling. Vicious, they are! But when Nugget has had enough, Oscar takes to running laps. He does this with the Wubba in tow, squeaking it loudly and incessantly at louder and shorter intervals. He crashes into walls, knocks over barstools, skids across the tile on the 'magic carpet', tips the water bowl, jumps on and off the couch 12 times, jumps over Nugget (who is sleeping on the floor at this point), and finally comes to an abrupt halt next to me on the couch (seen below). He's zonked in less than 2 minutes.
So that is what they were up to this afternoon... resting up for their second wind. Just for me.