Nesting

“I think he’ll like this.”  Sarah holds up a bright green hippopatumus.  She squeezes it. It makes a strange low snorty noise.  

“What kind of noise is that?” I ask.

“It’s the noise a hippo makes, I think.”  Sarah heads to Youtube and searches hippo sounds.  Sure enough, it’s a match.

“Well, we wouldn’t want him to think that hippos make some sort of generic squeak sound.”

“I know, right?”  Sarah agrees. “Then, if he met one in the wild, he’d really be taken off guard by the actual noise they make.” 

We concur that this is a fine first toy for our puppy, the one we haven’t met yet.

The girls have spent the weekend preparing the nest.  My sole contribution has been to set up the crate in the family room.  Nancy and Sarah, having returned from “baby shopping,” reveal each new purchase: 

“Here we have a rope knot toy.  Excellent for tug of war.”

 “And here’s another one we liked.”  It’s a blue spiky toy, clearly meant as doggy dental floss. 

“Oh, and here are the collars.”  Nancy has taken back the first collar she purchased. “Yeah, it would have fit if we had gotten a kitten.”  We’ve been informed that the 11-week-old has already cracked 40 pounds. He’s going to be large. “Look, we found two that match.” Nancy unveils two collars to replace the first, a puppy collar (which will fit him for about a month) and a full-grown size. She’s bought a heavy-duty leash, complete with reflectors for those early morning walks.

They’ve bought Puppy Chow for starters, and then some fancier brand, since the woman who found us our dog referred to Puppy Chow as “shelter-quality” food.  We’ll have none of that. Sarah is pleased that they’ve found a brand that’s a cut above “shelter quality” but significantly below the “break the bank” quality that we had to feed Boo in his old age.  

 And finally, Nancy reaches into her purse, pulling out the personalized tag, inscribed with the name, Farley, and our address.  His new home is ready.

Let’s hope the current residents are, too.

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