Our Fresno Christmas went well for the most part, if you don’t count the fact that Lomax wouldn’t leave poor Shadow alone the whole time. I’ve seen the “magic marker,” the “little soldier at attention,” the “lipstick,” and various other semi-comedic euphemisms for his intact male proclivities, but until this trip, Lomax had never been…”The Caboose.”
Seriously unauthorized sniffing was a regular occurrence, and not just butt-sniffing, I’m sorry to say. Then there was the heretofore unseen humping! Ah, well. Poor Shadow, pictured here in the position I saw him in most, managed to deal by either running and hiding behind Dad or simply gluing his hiney to the floor.
The boys did run around a bit (guess who did the chasing) and seemed to have been at least pleasant acquaintances by the time we left, but Lomax got a LOT of work on his down/stay. And Shadow, who has never in his history with my parents been inclined to play with or chew on toys, heartily enjoyed Lomax’s favorite Nylabone.