Tuesday, August 25, 2009

The Evil Mastermind and the Squeaker.

At the end of May we acquired a new dog in the family. Well, at least we think he's a dog. He might just be an escapee or retired Dr. Seuss character. With a name like Wrangler, one has to wonder.

Cooper seemed to accept this addition to his personal space with the usual aplomb, though he quickly judged that this creature was not up to his intellectual standards. He's proven handy to keep around for the entertainment factor, so he is tolerated as long as he didn't get too pushy.

Wrangler rules the roost when it comes to toys. Toys are his raison d'etre. Anything that squeaks, especially. Cooper quickly figured out how to push Wrangler's buttons. Any time he wants to tease Wrangler, Cooper will get ahold of (all of) Wrangler's toys and parade around him, causing Wrangler to go into a frenzy of barking and panicking that he'll never get his toys back.

But tonight Cooper took it to a whole new level.

We were eating ice cream. Both dogs love ice cream. But Cooper LOVES ice cream. Sarah and Scott finished theirs first and Cooper claimed rights to licking their bowls clean. I was still working on mine, and Wrangler was patiently waiting for his turn.

Cooper also saw I had some, but he didn't get in line or try to out-brute Wrangler for ice cream he knew full well he didn't deserve. Instead, he turned back to Sarah and the drawer where he knew his own squeaky toy was hidden safely away from Wrangler's obsessive personality.

So Sarah gave him his toy. And he proceeded to parade around until he got Wrangler's attention. And he got Wrangler's attention, all right. Wrangler jumped and barked and whined and growled and fussed until Cooper finally gave over the toy. Wrangler, all happy, proceeded to squeak-squeak-squeaky-squeak-squeak...

...and Cooper made his way, oh-so-confidently, over in front of me and my nearly-empty ice cream dish.

No amount of begging or enticing could possibly persuade Wrangler away from that toy. He was stuck to the squeak like a fly on honey. And Cooper sat in full confidence of his right to that ice cream dish.

Cooper, the master manipulator, once again won his day and the third ice cream bowl.

And the Squeaker squeaks on.

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