literally overnight our little Iddy seems to have hit puberty and has become quite an insufferable little menace: it had been raining for days and days without let up. Needless to say, the dogs` who hate water in any form or size stayed in as much as possible and began to suffer from something akin to cabin fever, and of course they did blame me for the rain: as far as they are concerned it is my task to stop that wet foolishness outside.
Every night I had to get up several times to check out the river and make sure that we were not in any danger from flooding and subsequent drowning. ( That in turn did wonders for my disposition, and left me pretty tired too). So when after several nights of this I had to get up yet again, barely conscious I crawled outside, no the river had not yet gone over the rim, good, back to the house close the door, grab a towel- the last dry one- and back to bed and to sleep. Ohh my Iddy is making a racket... took me several minutes to figure out that the noise came from outside! When I opened the door- feeling terribly guilty ,of course, in she marched, ecstatically happy to seem me to begin with, and then: she started kicking her back heels, the way male dogs do when they want to make a very strong point to other male dogs.. and she kicked her legs and kicked them and then some more..reminding me vaguely of a kid trying out four letter words.
The next day she really started kicking her heels sending mud, earth grass and dog turds flying every which way. And she kept at it too. Jarring old Elvis's patience who happens to think that kicking heels is his prerogative. Does Iddy have a case of gender confusion, we wonder?
Next thing we know is she starts following bill, back to the coffee shop when he comes to do his Internet here in the mornings. Bill who is a gentles soul and then some, will retrace his steps down the hill as soon as he discovers Iddy and deliver her back home (actually Dt did her one better there: she went through a phase when she would stow away in my customer's suv s, just to pop up on the seat next to the driver miles from home on some difficult jungle stretch forcing them to turn the car around to deliver her back home. Fortunately Dt outgrew that one.).
Of course, Iddy is smarter than all of us combined, and once she figured out that bill will deliver her back post haste, she left before bill, who found her at the coffee shop, bleeding from a tear under her eye, obviously she had gotten into a scrape and gotten roughed up pretty good. When I arrived at the shop to take her home, there she was, leashed, proudly grinning her best Mona Lisa grin, all but willing to go back home. Fought me tooth and nail on the motor bike, and is now doing time on an -albeit long- leash....I do not want to get unduly worried about her new behavior, but the question is is...how` much should I let her get away with... and ,I can see Elvis's patience wearing thin, as she kicks him wakes him up pulls his ear and does her very best to provoke him.... Dt is not much help in this she looks on, not unlike a proud mother who's brat can do no wrong......
Iddy is really on a protest jag.. and is driving us all quite crazy; first thing this morning she waited till I was in the bathroom, truly at the point of no return – me thus-( about 6 am, we do get up early here) and she took off.. Elvis followed her to the gate and when I finally made it there, he said to me; she went that way, she can't do that!! well she did, so i phoned Bill and sure enough she had arrived at the coffee shop. ( this is dangerous, she can not just wander around like that, there is traffic and the very real danger of her getting stolen:let's face it, she looks expensive and she is still not very massive and it is a holiday and people need money...)Bill had leashed Iddy, he had no string, so he used a piece of electric cable. When I came up to the coffee shop Iddy had stripped most of the cable of its insulation, feverishly working on the rest. She was not very happy to see me. So I went to the market, when I was finished there I picked her up, tierd to get her onto the moto; she did not want to come and fought me tooth and nail- scratched me up really good. When I finally got her home, I did leash her, and she still managed to pick a good fight with Elvis- probably for telling on her- now Elvis has a limp, Iddy is foul mooded- still leashed – and a Vietnamese ceramic( majolica) elephant- 4 feet high, a veritable monument to bad taste that I dearly loved -lays in smithereens....
About to despair, I thought back' :Elvis was no better at that age!!! there was all those times when he stole mangoes at the little corner market in snookyville, and he would streak down the road with a mango in his mouth followed by a formidable and very enraged market lady armed with her flip flop. And all those times he took off and I searched for hours just to find him sitting in a most disreputable gambling table in one if those renegade gambling parlors watching the crap games..
..or he would be crapping right on the garden path leading towards Rodolph very upscale restaurant next door- actually we always enjoyed that one, Rodolph being an asshole.
Soo.. Elvis should be talking..
so, well,he turned out all right, I remind myself time and again... but all you out there any bright ideas???? please, i` am a bit- now that is an euphemism - worried!!!!
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