Oscar and Bruno

anticipate this to be a short post.
If I call a BLOG  a BLUG,
Then should a POST be a PUST?
Just sayin'
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Aside:  do you notice that I put a dot between each paragraph?  That is because at times I copy/paste these to emails which I send to my immediate relatives.  My email seems to eliminate all the spaces between paragraphs just like it eliminates the extra space I put at the end of a sentence.  I was taught in typing class to put 2 spaces after each sentence.  My computer never read my typing teacher.  If it had, I would not be having this problem.  She would have straightened him out just as she curved my typing fingers.  But computer programmer trashing is not the context of this blug today.
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Have you ever tried to type any thing when surrounded by 5 love starved dogs who want to be held and loved and played with?  I have and am.  Right now, the situation was:  I sat down at machine and opened this window.  Oscar came and intertwined around the ankles.  I picked him up and he snuggled against my cheek wagging his tail.  Some petting was issued - which I would readily admit in a courtroom.  Behind me a low grrrooowwwwwllllll was issued (that is growl for those who can't read big, long words).  This is the sound emitted by Bruno when he wants attention.
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I rotated in my computer chair - Oscar standing on my chest pressing against the cheek - and look down at Bruno, who in return is looking up making his gutteral sound and vigorously wagging that tail.  Looking into Oscar's eyes, "gonna put ya down Oscar."  He didn't care.  Down he went; Bruno and he touched noses briefly then more low sounds.  I picked up Bruno.   He is the biggest Dachshund we have, a chocolate dapple with a beautiful long nose.
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Bruno stood with his lower legs on my knees and his uppers on my shoulder looking deep within my eyes with those gorgeous greens of his.  We touched noses briefly - no licking - Bruno sometimes will lick, his enormous tongue stretching out maybe, that is maybe, a half inch to barely caress my nose.  He knows where his licker should stay.
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I loved; he looked deep; we talked.  After a few moments I grasped his enormous chest and began to lower him to floor.  As he hit the floor, another low growl as if to say, "That was indeed not long enough."  But he paddled off to the other room.
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Now, Oscar is back.  Beside me is a pillow for dogs.  beside that is a sorta long footstool on  2 inch legs.  We bought it at Wal*Mart and is appropriate for the room.  Oscar is standing on his pillow looking under the footstool with his whine.  I knew automatically, the little mutt had put a ball under the furniture.  He does that.  Oscar loves to play with a ball.  He invents games like hide the ball, and, then, find it.  He can hide the ball and look for it for an amazing long period of time.  But under the footstool is a no-no.  He whines.  I fuss, "Oscar, did you put that ball under that?"  
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All the long, I know he did.  Oscar does that.  Off my chair onto the floor I struggle - hands and knees.  For those without dogs, understand that when you get on the floor, that is an open invitation to all dogs to come visit.  So, I am on the floor, surrounded by loving critters, trying to look under the furniture.  There it is - a ball - as predicted.  I reach under and pull out a small yellow ball.   Bruno is standing next to my hand and grabs the yellow ball running into another room followed by Oscar.
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I return to my chair.  Oscar starts a bark.  It is a protest bark - a tattletale if you wish.  I know what the problem is - the stupid yellow ball is in Bruno's mouth.  We have not seen the yellow ball for a week and now Bruno has it.  Knowing how much Oscar loves the green ball I get up and invite him to help me search for the green ball.  Nope, rather bark at Bruno.
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Few minutes later Oscar follows me as we begin to search for green ball.  Then I remember the footstool which is up against a couch next to the pillow next to my computer chair.  The question:  why did Oscar all of a sudden find the yellow ball after a week?  Back to the room; on my hands and knees; more dog surrounding; peering under the footstool - I spot a round object under the edge of the couch.  It is the green ball.   Pull out the green ball - Oscar grabs and runs off as happily as a .... make up your own metaphor.
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Peace and quiet.  Oscar has his green ball.  Bruno as the yellow ball.  All others have gone to rest in Brenda's sewing room to help her create the next quilt.
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No, this is not the subject of my blug today.  But it shall have to do.  I have tired.
mtz