The morning after the dog-walk crisis, I went out with Michele and M'haile to witness and support their reconciliation. I am happy to report that Mooch and doggie are again on good terms. We have re-introduced the crate, which we had apparently discontinued prematurely, following a couple of spectacular chew-riots during which M'haile dismantled, among other things, a photo album, a book, an expensive portable doggie tent, and a portion of the carpeting at the bottom of the staircase.
M'haile now sleeps in the crate and also retires there any time she behaves too rowdily when the rest of us are trying to relax. I must say, however, that our puppy is, overall, a much more civilized lady than she was a few weeks ago when she first came to live with us. She is learning not to jump on people and she is an admirable leash-walker. She does not pull, and stays within the five-foot perimeter we have disignated for her. Most of the time she trots obediently beside whomever is holding her leash. Good doggie. And she is just so extremely cuddly. She wags and kisses as if it were Mardi Gras and these activities were just about to be forbidden for lent. She patiently, one might even say foolishly, tries to engage Gwynnifer, the cat, in play and endures the resulting feline hostility with equanimity. She has never growled or snarled at Gwynnifer nor tried to chase her. I suppose if Gwynnifer were inclined to run M'haile might give chase, but Gwynnifer is not. She is inclined to hiss, spit and swipe with her sharp claws. M'haile has so far demonstrated the intelligence and the reflexes to withdraw her nose in time.
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