Duelling Dancing Divas

Forget sit. Forget sit-stay...down....down-stay...come...fetch...."please God, Toot, don't pee in the bed" -- forget all the obedience-related nonsense. Toot has mastered the two-step dance.

I have never seen anything like it. Dial up Ripleys.. America's Funniest Home Videos...this is not to be believed. Miss Patootie can dance her axx off. She can two-step, she can twirl, she can dip, and she can even reggae, and LORD help us when Toot hears the Blues.

And, she knows she is MISS IT too... don't get her started when Nadia and Nikita try to cut in....(between us... neither of them have Toot's panache when it comes to cutting a rug) but, they bark and carry on...and Toot ignores them...except for a well orchestrated bicuspid snarl over her shoulder to let them know that she is the Empress of the dance floor.

And, I had the nerve to bring in Miss Sheba to steal my Toot's thunder. The Angels From God were excited about the road trip....until we hit Pittsfield, Massachusetts,......lost. The directions to the Humane Society hinged on the location of a particular Friendly's Restaurant (In the absence of street signs, we, Residents of the Commonwealth, rely on landmarks). Of course, you must have a more reliable landmark than a Friendly's Restaurant, because I counted three of them between the Mass Pike and our destination. Finally, in a desperate move, I pulled into a Mobil Mini Mart and asked the resident Grateful Dead Fan if he had heard of the road I was looking for. Nope. So, some locals came to my aid, and when I mentioned that I was looking for the Humane Society.....the Grateful Dead Fan reached under the cash register and produced a xeroxed map to that very location. I guess you have to know how to phrase things around here.

And so, we met Miss Sheba. Cute as a button...the same size as Toot, but three times as wide. Apparently, Miss Sheba had been snacking on too many bon bons. Nonetheless, she fit right in....although, according to Toot, she was a rather pushy broad. Toot does not take kindly to houseguests who monopolize my attention.

 

Three, four days passed without incident....until, I poured myself a glass of sauvignon blanc and fired up the CD player with "The Girl From Ipanema." Under the influence of the Rio rhythms, the night breeze, (not to mention the alcohol), I became a sorry version of Rita Moreno, looping around the room, kicking up my heels. Toot spies the action and makes her way onto the dance floor. We do a few dips, a twirl or two, and who should prance over on her back legs....paws in the air... Miss Sheba. Like a Gazelle from Swan Lake, Sheba takes over the spotlight with absolutely perfect balance. She reminded me of those glorious pink hippos doing spendid ballet moves in "Fantasia."

Well....I couldn't believe my eyes....and neither could Toot. As I let Sheba express herself, I could see the peeved expression on Toot's face as she stalked off to sit on her crate so she could watch the scene from a more annoying vantage point. Sheba was milking the attention for all it was worth....and finally, Toot could take no more. She reared back and shot forward like a harpoon to the whale. Although, clearly, her intent was to knock Sheba on her fat behind, the 17 pound Battleship Tootness could not generate enough perpendicular force to get the job done. Sheba didn't miss a beat, and Toot spent the rest of the evening inventing new dirty looks for my benefit. She did not speak to me for three days.

What happened to Sheba? She was adopted by a wonderful couple, Donna and David Merrill. Read Sheba's Adoption Story.

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