Saturday the 11th. July. Homecoming day.
3:20 pm
The guys both got up and started wandering around. We played a little. Buddy had regained his taste for playing with the bunnies, and Bubba wanted to play chase a little. It was less-aggressive gaming – both guys were clearly tired – but it was still fun, and burned more their energy. Things slowed down for a bit, and then we went for a walk.
We went across the street where it was wonderfully quiet. The parking lot was sparcely populated. It was mid-afternoon on a beautiful day, during summer vacation, on the weekend – and it was relatively dead.
We walked about 35 minutes, through the memorial to the first stairs. Bubba pooped, and then we continued on. I put the bag into the trash, and then Bubba turned us back. And then pooped a second time. I think they’re doing this poop-twice thing just to mess with my head. Buddy did not poop.
When we got back, Bubba went straight to his bed and went to sleep straight away.
2:30 pm
I went back over to hang out with the guys. I wouldn’t needle them anymore, but just being there and moving around normally should be enough to make them slightly-less-rested. Buddy was still on the sitting area of the couch, but had moved to the area closest to the front door. He woke up when I came in. His tail started wagging, which was a relief. I was afraid he wouldn’t be happy to see me. He seemed irritated with me last time I showed up.
I did a quick maintenance check. Both water dishes had been hit pretty hard, and needed refilling. The pee pad in the bathroom had been destroyed. There was an earwig walking around on it. Not my favorite, but certainly a lot better than a black widow living under it. Both pads needed changing.
12:30 pm
It was my latest venture over to check on things, and sit a while with the guys. Bubba was sleeping in the fireplace bed, and his head snapped up when the screen door slammed shut. Buddy was on the couch, on the middle seat, not up on the perch. He was in the Sphinx position, chin resting on the couch. He looked up at me and his face said, “enough, man. We need sleep.”
Making sure they’re ready for sleep tonight didn’t mean torture! I went back home, and I closed the front door this time so they could sleep with little disturbance.
11:30 am
The front door has been open, and I’ve migrated back and forth between condos a lot, keeping the scene busy. I’ll let them get a good nap after our next walk – they will probably both want one badly.
On my latest trip, I found Buddy on his perch. He wasn’t sleeping, but he was resting. The bunny was in the hall by the kitchen. I slid it to the door to the bedroom. He looked, but he tried not to care. I pressed with my foot and it squeaked. His head popped up and ears shot up. He watched intently. I squaked it one more time, then punted it into the bedroom. He jumped off the bed and ran to the bedroom to get the bunny. His jaws grabbed the bunny by the neck, chewed on the squeaker once, then he put the bunny down and walked back to the living room, and helped himself to some food.
Bubba got up. I thought they both were signaling that it was walk time, but I misread it. Neither guy wanted to.
9:30 am
Buddy got a workout. We played a game that I could play all day – sitting in the recliner, foot on the bunny, taunting him with squeaks. He would tug and pull and figure out he couldn’t get it away, after tiring himself out a bit. Then he’d stand and wait for an opening….I’d move my foot away, and he’d pounce; but too slow. He tried pretending he wasn’t looking, turning his head halfway towards the front door, but I could see his eyes staying on the bunny.
We played that game for half an hour before he finally gave up. He went and got food to refuel, then flopped down by the front door. I threw the bunny down the hall and he chased it. His hunter instincts are too strong to hold on to feigned indifference.
Each time I pass Bubba, I stop to pet him. He just sees it as affection, and not me keeping him from getting into deep sleep.
8:15 am
Operation Tired Dudes begins.
The objective: keep the guys active all day, so that they will be ready for bed at 11pm and have no energy to bug anyone that’s trying to sleep after a long day of traveling. So far, so good.
Buddy was not ready to be up. He was happy to see me; the tail was thumping against the couch and 1,500 rpm. He was not getting up, though. Bubba was in the front door bed, lookingi up at me when I walked in. He seemed much more awake than Buddy, but the tongue was hanging out, and I wasn’t expecting him to move.
A quick check found no accidents inside or out – expected with all of the double-poops these guys have been doing. I started on The Breakfast, and Bubba got up, and came to stare at me working in the kitchen. Bubba went back to bed, and I finished preparing the food.
I came out and sat to pet Bubba, and Buddy got up. Attention Jealous is stronger than fatigue. Attention harvesting turned into a craving for the outdoors for both, and we went on our first walk. We went up the path to PCH. Bubba started looking tired a quarter of the way up the path. He was moving slower, but still going. He wanted to reduce the pace, but not abandon the trip. It turned into a long, slow walk. We got passed by pretty much everyone in Dana Point by the time we reached PCH. At the top of the path, Buddy wanted to head into town. Bubba wanted to head home, and I knew that was the right way.
We walked about 40 minutes. Buddy pooped twice (again!!!). Bubba did not.