The banjo practices continue. Dearly Beloved feels that he is improving, but adds that the purest notes that come out of that banjo are the sounds when he accidentally bumps the instrument neck against the chair arm when he’s sitting down.
Part of the problem is that it hasn’t been tuned in a month and there has been much “a-pickin’ and a-grinnin'” since then.
Yesterday he practiced in the bedroom. Granddog Goldendoodle Ivy lay at his feet the entire time. Our girl Scout, as usual, fled the scene after the first few notes.
Dearly Beloved is starting to take this behavior personally. He says he’s learning a lot about his so-called “friends.” He calls them “True” and “Fair-Weather.”
With all the rain we’re having, letting the dogs outside for anything except a potty break results in mud-wrestling, but they’re managing to keep themselves entertained inside. Their games are a bit hard on the wood floors, but they’re fun to watch.
DB also refers to them as The Princess (Ivy) and The Street Dog (Scout.) It’s easy to see why, even in the way they eat. Ivy carefully chews each individual little kibble, while Scout sucks hers down with turbo power.
Our favorite game to watch is the tug of war, played with a remnant of rope left from an “indestructible” toy. Scout puts one end of the rope in her mouth, flips over, and waits behind the sofa for Ivy.
Prissy Ivy grabs the other end of the rope and pulls, dragging Scout around the room. Neither dog will let go of the rope.
I have some photos, but I must tell you first that the sofas in the photos are a combination of our flowery beach-house-not-on-the-beach couch which I love and our bad upholstery choice den sofa and love seat. All will be made right when I find slipcovers for the “hotel lobby” sofa and love seat. So, no whispering about these sofas. We know we’re a decorating nightmare right now. (Feel free to report us to HGTV. We could use the inspiration.)
If The Princess wants to win this duel, all she has to do is drag Fair-Weather toward the practice in the bedroom.
“A banjo is like an artillery shell — by the time you hear it, it’s too late.”
— A Prairie Home Companion Pretty Good Joke Book