After a mandatory 21-day stay in Minnesota after getting his rabies shot, Number Five was able to board a plane with me and meet his anxious dog dad and many adoring neighbors back in Amsterdam.
He had to ride in the belly of the plane, and was contained in his kennel for nearly nine hours. Needless to say, he was more than happy to get the heck outta there when we landed. After an exuberant exchange between Dave, me and Number Five, we squeezed into a taxi and went home.
After adjusting to a few minor additions such as bicyclists and lots of cars zooming by, he seems to have settled in really nicely. He's getting to know and REALLY love Dave's playfulness, loving to run and jump and chase him whenever possible. And he still has yet to make a mess in the house (knock four-hundred-year-old wood).
He LOVES his dog friends. And he's got lots of them. On every block for a mile radius, there's some four-legged comrade who now knows Number Five and is just as excited to play with him as ever. It's great.
Other things he's learned:
He's figured out that the mysterious, and yet oddy familiar-looking animal underneath the piano is not going to attack him.
He'll lie down on command.
If he chews on mom and dad's beautiful new coffee table, he gets in big trouble.
Even though the moving figures on the wall look and sound real, they aren't.
And he knows that Frolics are really tasty. Maybe not as tasty as grandpa's filet mignon treats. But they're still really good.
With a woof and some crazy-high jumps...
L, D & #5
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