February 16, 2008 — There is something in this litter…a freaky telepathic connection, at the very least between Truman and his brother Tai.
I know this, because every time Truman is driving me nuts with a multiple-day burst of uncontrollable energy that seems to refuse to be worked or played out of him by any normal means, I get a phone call from Matt and Amy:
“Is your dog on crack right now? Because our dog is on crack right now. Brother shuffle time is available in our yard, effective immediately.”
So off we go to visit. Truman, predictably, knows which exit I have taken off the freeway and springs up to look out the window. How. Does. He. Always. KNOW?!?
The running commences. The wrestling, the chasing, the springing, the teeth-rattling. We are in the Doofus Zone for the next few hours until they’re both manageable once again. Boys will be boys.