When I returned to work on Monday, Gregg texted me around lunchtime to tell me that the dogs were miserable, especially Poppy. They kept going to the back door and windows to look longingly at the driveway, checking to see if I was back yet. Lots of big sighs and sad eyes. Poppy finally draped herself over the back of a small sofa that has a driveway view, and laid there all afternoon, waiting. I asked if Marco had missed me, too. Gregg said, "I'm not sure, but he's been a little asshole all day, so I imagine he's sick of me if nothing else." Ha. When I finally got home, there was absolute doggy joy. (Jennifer joy, too!)
Yesterday when I got home from work, the dogs got so excited and wound up that they started pulling toys out of the toy basket and play-fighting with each other in front of me. Marco watched from his perch, obviously wanting to join in the fun. Lately he's been getting braver about approaching them, and George and Poppy have been showing remarkable tolerance with it. It's a good thing, too, because when there was a pause in the doggy roughhousing, Marco decided it was time to move right up into both their faces. He's awfully bold, and the dogs are awfully good!




















