Everything around my house at 7am is usually pretty quiet, that's when I am trying to deal with emails and scheduling when the girls ride because they have to go to San Francisco this Saturday or somewhere and can they ride at 8am or on Thursday and I shuffle that whole house of horses around and read a blog and open bills and try to get things done that are piling up left and right. When I could just be drawing with pens! Most of the dogs are sleeping in dog beds in the office, except for one. Gustavo. He is constant motion, it's like a little Brittney Spears on meth running around with unbridled Joy of Dog Toys and Running. Or digging. Or chewing a plant. Or jumping. The dog has an off switch which we see only late at night, at falling asleep in front of whatever informative show happens to be on for me to fall asleep with (usually a choice between tattoing, house flipping, top cheffing or top modeling, all of which I am now somewhat a well informed consumer of except for usually having never seen an ending to any of them).
Every dog toy that has a squeaky is a thing for running around with really fast and squeaking. If there is sitting down it is to squeak the squeaker for a while until the running should start again or perhaps finding contraband to chew such as hats or magazines or pillows or other things until you notice there is no squeaking then trade it out for a dog toy. Then the running starts again, pretty much until I can get them all on a walk that involves a beach so there can be real, genuine running in an effort to make him tired.
That part is tricky because Timmy is getting slower and slower and it's hard to get them all out together, so it's involving 2 sets of walks so Timmy doesn't feel left out. Timmy loves the beach too, but it's pretty slow going to get him there. Anyways, it's a little complicated but we make it work because it's Timmy.
Gustavo, if made to be in an off position during on time, has a steely eyed look that he fixes on you, trying to telepathically get himself released out of the crate or out of the dog pen or wherever he has been put. It is kind of border collie in a way, those eyes, except that I think he is more terrier. He does have the sheep herding sweep to his running circuits-no straight lines here except for running back into what is becoming a pretty cool recall, and is developing good tennis ball fetch but he doesn't have that laser like herding focus. Even his tennis ball thing is not obsessive like some ocd dogs I may have, it's more business casual recreational fetching. Gustavo is a creature of distraction and fun.
His free DNA test should be coming back with possibly some clues to what he is, possibly not. The 60 times per day people ask me what he is ("Are all those yours? Boy you have a lot of dogs! What kind of dog is that?") and I mumble something and head away, usually I just mutter street dog or mexican or terrier in my antisocial way, maybe could be answered with St. Bernard/Italian Greyhound or whatever the computer comes up with. I'll take it. If the computer says it's so, then I'm good. And then I can just lie like I do about the rest of the team.
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