The original title of this essay was A Minute in the Life of a Puppy, but that would require a chronicle of events too numerous to mention. Therefore I limited the time-span to a more manageable five seconds.
PRELUDE: Every morning, my eight week old puppy, Scooter, wakes me around 5:30 to tell me that he needs to be let out.
I put on my robe and slippers, and shiver in the autumn frost for 10 minutes while he sniffs through the leaves for a place to pee. Next I take him back into the house where I start the coffee, after which I prepare his breakfast and get dressed for our long walk. So not to destroy the house, I loop the handle of his leash around the knob of the kitchen door.
Here is what happened this morning.
05:24:10 While airborne and shaking his leash, Scooter manages to slip his tether off the knob.
05:24:11 Rushing into the garage, he flings one of my running shoes into the wood pile. It will take me two weeks to find the shoe because that is what it took the last time.
05:24:12 Bouncing back into the house, he deftly places all four of his paws into his food dish. Normally, I would consider this a bad thing but not this morning, his paw prints allow me to track his progress through the house.
05:24:13 He bites at a throw-rug in the hall, rolling it into a ball. Now my wife has something to stumble on when she rushes from bedroom to see what is going on.
05:24:14 The entire contents of the trash bin is spilled onto the kitchen floor. To be fair, it was not Scooter who knocked it over. The actual culprit was the broom he bowled over.
05:24:15 Scooter performs a flying-power-body-splash onto our two cats who are sleeping peacefully on the living room rug. The cats go airborne. Now there are three animals in flight through the living room. Lamps tilt precariously. Photos placed beyond the reach of grand-children leap off the wall to join the scrum of fur below and the television remote, much like the running shoe in the garage, scurries to the safety of some hard to get to and impossible to guess place.
Aftermath: The cats make short work of Scooter who beats a hasty retreat to the garage. His yelping wakes our neighbor who lives a quarter mile away. The yelping also upset his sheep and another neighbor’s cattle. They call to say they will be speaking to me later today.
Aside from the mess, thankfully, the house requires only minor repair – nothing structural. I consider this a good morning. It was nothing like Scooter’s first week with us.