May 19, 2010
White Dog has decided that she must add Physics to the list of things she needs to teach Quinn. The OTHER White Dog has developed the strange habit of bounding full speed like an uncoordinated pup into the house when he returns through the dog door. He madly zooms through the bedroom, down the hall, cuts a hard right and then another and enters the kitchen at about 100 mph (White Dog has clocked him at 99.6 mph with her radar gun). He is happy and full of charming enthusiasm and joi de vie. His entry is such a wonderful burst of glee. The problem is when he hits the kitchen floor he loses traction. Gravity and momentum take over and he ends up sliding across the floor like a baseball player hitting third base on a steal. White Dog and I sat there tonight watching (and already foreseeing the outcome) as TOWD zoomed by, hit the vinyl, and careened in beautiful slow motion into his food bowl, water dish, and ended up smashing his head on the kitchen cart. White Dog said, "Wow! That had to hurt. I better teach him a couple of physical laws before that boy really knocks himself silly." By the time she finished her thought, Quinn was back on all fours chowing on kibble and totally taking advantage of Michael's sympathy massage.