These are the three dogs who play in my garden. That is Buddy on smiling on the left, Rusty in the middle and Scrap on the right.
This is a portrait of Buddy, our senior dog, who is fourteen years of age. Of all the dogs I have ever owned, he understands language the best. He twists his head and cocks his ears to catch every word I say.
These days, Buddy's main preoccupation is food. He is never to proud too beg for table scraps.
Buddy's best talent is singing. He is a champion howler. A few notes of any song and he is happy to sing right along.
This is Scrap, a born trouble maker. He has been known to get into the kitchen cupboards and help himself to whatever he finds there.
He even managed to break into the fridge one time. Seriously! We came home one night to find there was nothing remained of last night's roast, but a grease spot on the kitchen floor.
I am sure the other two dogs helped him to eat the roast beef, but we knew Scrap was the ring leader-he was still wearing the cherry pie that he had for dessert after he polished off the roast. Needless to say, we now lock up the kitchen before heading out.
Scrap lives to be outside. He loves to play with a soccer ball, kicking it with his front knees and controlling its direction with his nose. The worst thing about his playing with the ball is that he never wants to play by himself. He barks continually in an effort to convince other two dogs to join in on his fun.
Scrap considers all squirrels to be his arch enemies. He tears down the length of yard, barking at them in the tree tops.
This is Rusty. A local breeder gave us Rusty, because no one else wanted him. We don't exactly what happened to Rusty in the first year of his life, but he arrived at our house dirty and so thin you could feel his ribs. And he was nervous to the point of neurotic.
These days he his a happy, cubby fellow, but he has never entirely lost those early personality quirks.
Rusty is terrified of any loud noise: hairdryers, thunder and the alarm on the smoke detector (which goes off whenever I manage to burn the morning's toast).
Rusty refuses to go out in the rain. If forced to go out, he prances through the wet grass trying to avoid getting his paws wet.
He will only eat when he feels absolutely secure.
Rusty's favorite spot is a tiny perch tucked into a landing between the first and second floors. There he likes to survey the world from the safety and security of his tiny dog bed.
Gardening with three dogs definitely has its challenges. All three of them tear through the flower beds burning off boundless Sheltie energy. Scrap's soccer ball crushes my flowers like a steam roller.
In spring, I cope by putting up small fences to cut off favorite shortcuts through the flower beds and install low wire hoops to protect emerging plants from being trampled under foot. Still, there is always some carnage.
But I love them to bits and forgive them every time.
Check out these other Animal Themed Posts:
Get Ready for Some Adorable Faces: Come along for a visit to the local leash-free dog park in this funny post.
On a hot summer day the dogs like nothing better than for me to turn on the garden sprinkler.
Mator is growing up fast! Visit this post about Mator Running with the Big Boys.