That inexhaustible, leaping, kissing, biting, havoc-wreaking but always lovable, bundle of fur that is Wiley, came bounding down from his home in the Upper Peninsula this past week, to visit me. Merely 3 months old, and only in my life for just a fraction of that time, he has managed to secure a place in a heart that I was quite confident had already reached its full-capacity. My heart has been quite happily occupied for the last 11 years by that incorrigible Copper Kitty, whom we rescued while vacationing in Port Sanilac, and for the last 8 years by the two tiny bundles of black fur, Teddy and Scarlett that God blessed us with after our beloved Cairn Terrier Sophie, passed away. Then, as if it wasn't crowded enough already in there, the neighbor's two cats who absolutely refuse to accept that they do not reside at my house, have also managed to garner more than their fair share of my heart's affection... not to mention the lion's share of Copper's cat food, as well. I simply had no intention of falling in love with any other animal and was determined to only "like" Wiley, Olivia and Mike's new Silver Lab puppy...and even "liking" was to be kept strictly from a distance. Wiley however, with blatant disregard for the "no vacancy" sign I had posted, would tolerate nothing less than first class accommodations in the "make room in your heart" department and with complete and unabashed confidence, singlehandedly (or pawedly, as the case may be) found himself a place within it, despite my strongest efforts. He utilized some interesting tactics, I have to admit. While Scarlett and Teddy won me over with their gentle manners and playful antics, Wiley went with the "tail wagging with such unbridled joy that it knocks every single item off your coffee table" style approach, accompanied by mischief making of such epic proportions, that simply the act of behaving himself weakens any resolve not to love him by virtue of sheer gratitude alone. Most effective of all his tactics however, is Wiley's strategy of rising very early in the morning and waking his first victim, so that, while they are half-asleep and still not able to think coherently, they foolishly leave their bare feet exposed allowing Wiley to seize the chance to sink his incredibly, sharp puppy teeth into the very tender area of their Achilles heel. This is followed immediately, by said humans attempting to pry Wiley's teeth from off of their tender flesh, while simultaneously screaming, "No bite! No bite!" to no avail; thus affording Wiley the opportunity to latch onto ones fingers, which unbelievably, one has, in desperation, placed inside his mouth! The beauty of this tactic is that when Wiley chooses a different victim the next morning, the first recipient of Wiley's morning greeting is so grateful to him for doing so, that an unbreakable bond is immediately forged.
This week when Wiley bounded into my house, shiny sharp teeth exposed and waiting to bite, it was just what the doctor ordered. Puppies are demanding little creatures and there is no time for grieving, unless you have a very strong Achilles heel. Then of course, there is that one other "extra" benefit he provides; it being that every now and then, when Wiley is a little sleepy himself, he is amenable to a bit of affection....and as everyone knows, very few things in life help heal a heart faster than the love of two tiny bundles of black fur, an incorrigible cat, the two cats who live across the street from you but who refuse to accept that arrangement, along with the affection of a puppy like Wiley. Blessings ~ Amycita ~
