Swordfight at the OK coral

I was at Monkeyjack's, invited to dinner, and was greeted by the hounds of the baskervilles (not so terrifying if you know that they are rambunctious puppies -- large as they are). They are still teething and when a toy isn't around, furniture or people work just as well. With my return there, the behaviors returned as well ... some good, some bad. They are, afterall, dogs that can imprint information and make associations that last a lifetime. Humans think too much to do this.

Cheyenne has taken more to going belly up for chest rubs, while Echo prefers a back and rump scratch -- devilishly difficult to reach. They have difficulty being calm around guests, it appears, or perhaps just around me -- the upright dog. Should I have been in the Shaggy Dog? They are very lovable.

Charlie wanted to battle, the moment that he knew I was there. It started with swords then moved to wrestling. With Jared's arrival, I was the evil one, General Grievious, wielding two swords against my opponents who had armor that doesn't break and had force fields, and could walk on lava, whereas I had none of those things -- hence, my continually slaughter at their hands. Later, they developed the ability to become invisible and I was swinging in the air for targets that continually slashed at me. It was my disappointment that early on, while Charlie alone was battling me, that he bears a scratch by my random swinging.

The boys together were formidable, but agreeing on rules was their downfall. What to play, ground rules, who I was, what weapon I was to have all were difficulties. After dinner, the boys battled me, but older man me requested that we switch gears to video games, where digitally, I was crushed, shot, pushed felled and in all manners slain in a Mario fight game.

The dogs, singly and together pawed and cried at the door to be with the boys and I. There were no distinctions. Kids, canine or human should play together in harmony.

Charlie had one last fight -- sleep, but to this enemy he fell.