Ah, Superbowl Sunday!
This is one of our 52 (sometimes, 53) favorite Sundays of the whole year. We love today because we know that we get to have some special food, like nachos that have fallen on the floor, potato chips that have fallen on the floor, and peanuts that have fallen on the floor. It's a real fun night for us, especially when our favorite team wins! It's been a really long time since they won, and we hope that they win because when they do, we get some extra special treats, like nachos, potato chips, and peanuts that have not fallen on the floor!
But, to every yin there's a yan and the cold, hard fact is that as we wait for the big game to start, we're reminded that there's another somewhat less big but still important game going on: the Puppy Bowl. Now, neither of us would argue that we are still puppies; even though we still love to run around and chew on slippers, we understand that our biological age and our growing maturity, evidenced by the way we carry ourselves and our ability to go nanoseconds and sometimes full seconds without barking at squirrels, means that we're "adults" (excuse us while we chortle at the thought). And, yet, there is that nagging memory of the time that each of us was just a puppy, and yet we were not asked to participate in that year's Puppy Bowl (for Izzi, that was VI; for Rozi VIII), which made no sense at the time and continues to baffle us. What was wrong with our skill sets?
We thought that the Puppy Combine went well. Sure, Izzi was nervous during her tryout and shook the whole time and since our mama was not allowed to hold her, perhaps the scouts did not get to see what she could do in the open field. But, we know that if you put a squirrel or a bunny in an open field, Izzi is fierce!
Rozi has shown her ability to move the ball, often picking up the little practice football that we have and running around the house with it. Of course, she often fumbles, and the ball rolls under the couch or a table or something like that, and maybe that's what they remember about her performance, but did they not think about the fact that the ball that Rozi practices with is (intentionally) small, so as to hone her ball carrying skills? It's all politics, we tells ya!
We know that we'll be sitting home watching, and so will our "friends" (sure, we don't know them but we feel like we do) whose dad is playing today.
And so, we wait for that game nearly as anxiously as we do the "big game" and when it comes on, we wish both sides well, and still wonder what could have been. Those trips to visit the President's puppy as members of the winning team, travelling in a comfy carrier as we visited puppies around the country who want us to ink up our paws and step on their autograph books. We'd have used our time in the spotlight to promote our agenda: that puppy mills need to be banned, and that we should get more than one treat a night. Ah, well. It didn't turn out as we planned, but - then again - we can't complain.
We get to relaaax for most of the day, except when our mama comes back from the long time that she's away getting us food and stuff, and then after we dance around like maniacs (we always worry that she's going to leave us and never come back and when we're wrong, we just can't help ourselves!) we go back to relaaaxing some more. Today, we'll try to store up as much energy as we can so that we're ready to do our part and cheer out team to victory.
Because, we have this sneaking suspicion that if we do, it'll be a "2 treat" night!
Arf, Arf, Arf, Arf
Izzi & Rozi
This is one of our 52 (sometimes, 53) favorite Sundays of the whole year. We love today because we know that we get to have some special food, like nachos that have fallen on the floor, potato chips that have fallen on the floor, and peanuts that have fallen on the floor. It's a real fun night for us, especially when our favorite team wins! It's been a really long time since they won, and we hope that they win because when they do, we get some extra special treats, like nachos, potato chips, and peanuts that have not fallen on the floor!
 |
| Let's go, Fluffy's dad! |
But, to every yin there's a yan and the cold, hard fact is that as we wait for the big game to start, we're reminded that there's another somewhat less big but still important game going on: the Puppy Bowl. Now, neither of us would argue that we are still puppies; even though we still love to run around and chew on slippers, we understand that our biological age and our growing maturity, evidenced by the way we carry ourselves and our ability to go nanoseconds and sometimes full seconds without barking at squirrels, means that we're "adults" (excuse us while we chortle at the thought). And, yet, there is that nagging memory of the time that each of us was just a puppy, and yet we were not asked to participate in that year's Puppy Bowl (for Izzi, that was VI; for Rozi VIII), which made no sense at the time and continues to baffle us. What was wrong with our skill sets?
Rozi has shown her ability to move the ball, often picking up the little practice football that we have and running around the house with it. Of course, she often fumbles, and the ball rolls under the couch or a table or something like that, and maybe that's what they remember about her performance, but did they not think about the fact that the ball that Rozi practices with is (intentionally) small, so as to hone her ball carrying skills? It's all politics, we tells ya!
We know that we'll be sitting home watching, and so will our "friends" (sure, we don't know them but we feel like we do) whose dad is playing today.
And so, we wait for that game nearly as anxiously as we do the "big game" and when it comes on, we wish both sides well, and still wonder what could have been. Those trips to visit the President's puppy as members of the winning team, travelling in a comfy carrier as we visited puppies around the country who want us to ink up our paws and step on their autograph books. We'd have used our time in the spotlight to promote our agenda: that puppy mills need to be banned, and that we should get more than one treat a night. Ah, well. It didn't turn out as we planned, but - then again - we can't complain.
 |
| Relaaaaxing before the big game. |
We get to relaaax for most of the day, except when our mama comes back from the long time that she's away getting us food and stuff, and then after we dance around like maniacs (we always worry that she's going to leave us and never come back and when we're wrong, we just can't help ourselves!) we go back to relaaaxing some more. Today, we'll try to store up as much energy as we can so that we're ready to do our part and cheer out team to victory.
Because, we have this sneaking suspicion that if we do, it'll be a "2 treat" night!
Arf, Arf, Arf, Arf
Izzi & Rozi
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