We talk, he walks

The other day mom took the not-a-real Beagle with the fancy name Colonel Oliver North, AKA Ollie, or The Pissant, as I call him, to the vet to get his teeth cleaned.  His teeth had turned a bit discolored, unlike my pearly whites, so he was a dog-in-need of a cleaning.  She loaded him in the car and off he went with mom. 

While the Pissant was at the vet the rest of the household was quite calm.  When he is around things are always more frantic.  He’s got some type of terrier in him, Jack Russell, I hear, and so he’s always nervous, always moving around, never calm and relaxed.  The house was way quieter cuz he does a lot of squealing and squeaking in a high-pitched voice that would take paint off the walls.  We all had some quiet time with pop and it was very enjoyable.

Ollie with his ears blowing in the wind.

Mom was home waiting for the call to pick up the Pissant in the afternoon.  She didn’t hear from the vet so she called them because when she went to pick him up she was going to take Daisy and Jade in for some routine shots.  Mine are all up-to-date by-the-way.  The vet clinic told mom that Ollie had just come out of surgery and it would be an hour-and-a-half until she could pick him up.  So everyone settled in for that last bit of quiet time before he came home.

About 15 minutes later mom got a call from the vet office.  She could come pick Ollie up now.  What?  Off she went with the girls to go get him. 

At the vet’s the shots were completed and Ollie was rounded up and harnessed for the ride home.  Turns out he’d come out of his comatose state (his under-anesthesia time) way sooner than they’d expected.  He squealed and squeaked and in their words was “quite annoying.”  Ha!!!  I could have told them that.  The girls said mom told the vet he was a very annoying dog at the best of times.  Yep, he sure is.

Anyway, mom brought everyone back home.  Too bad as I’d been enjoying some quality time with pop.  Oh well.  That’s the pack way … all of us here at one time.

We had our supper and then, wouldn’t you know it … something else different happened.  Mom took a walk, but this time she took the little Pissant with her.  She never takes any of us … we’re too much to handle, you see.  So, the moral of this story is, he acts like a Pissant and gets to walk with mom and gets extra treats.  How do I know that?  Cuz he bragged about marking territory everywhere, and I could smell Milkbone on his breath!!!  Plus I saw mom had photo proof.  Pissant!!!!

The pissing Pissant!!!