Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Fred and Patton, who's pretty young here, were masters of the Sumo arts. Before Oliver the ruiner of all games came along, they'd have long, intricate matches with lots of posturing and displaying, and little actual wrestling. It would start with one of them approaching the other with ears laid back and a mean gansta look about him. The other would stand up, assume the position, and they'd stare each other down for a while. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they'd pounce, rolling around and snapping but not really biting each other much, more a kind of small-mammal slapfight that doesn't really go in for the kill but just scores points and moves on.
They'd break after a short but furious action, and separate, facing each other from a few feet away with ears laid back, watching warily from sitting positions. And then it would start all over again.
After about five or six of these matches, they'd break for a drink of water and a snack, and Patton would go outside to see if any of the neighbors were around to hang with. Fred would take a nap and Patton probably would too, unless there were any lizards or cockroaches around to torment, not to mention the occasional rat or bird. It was a real killing field under the dining room table sometimes, although the dogs either didn't notice the rat heads and lizard tails or figured they were Patty's personal property. Weird, though, since they missed no other opportunity to eat or roll in gross stuff.