It’s been on my mind a lot lately how much time has passed. In May, it will be two years already since Fayth passed. Yet, I still think about her so often.
Especially when we’re in the car, and see any vehicle piled high and covered with a tarp. I don’t remember how she got hooked, but seeing anything like that would drive her berserk and she would start barking madly, working herself into a frenzy until I calmed her down. Marc and I always thought this very funny and would often encourage the crazy behaviour.
As you know, since she passed, we adopted a rescue dog, named Pumba. When we first saw him in kennels, he was rather shy and aloof, but I knew the moment I saw him that he was meant to be ours. He very quickly settled in and he and TJ became like brothers, doing almost everything together. They are both almost five years old now.
Even though he is somewhat of a timid dog, and a bundle of nerves on occasion, Pumba quickly asserted himself as top dog, stealing most of the limelight and affection from the more reserved TJ. Of course, we still gave TJ attention, but very often, he seemed fed up with it all and would rather sleep on the floor.
Recently, though, it seems as if the roles may reverse. It is very obvious that TJ has had enough of being the underdog and is frequently challenging Pumba. They do tend to play rough, but once or twice now, I’ve had to step in when tempers seemed to flare between them.
Last night was interesting. TJ was lying at the foot of the bed, so I parked (my wheelchair) at an angle in front of him, at the corner of the bed and started stroking and cuddling him. Pumba, who had been lying in the middle of the bed, tried to creep forward to get some attention as well. TJ would have none of it and snarled at him each time he came near.
I guess we’ll just have to watch them as time goes on. I don’t think it will ever happen, but the thought is now in the back of my mind. What if we come home one day and they had a serious fight?
It's my life ... 