Pozzo & Lucky

“All is dream or frenzy to the poet,” said D. H. Lawrence.

He was really thinking of my Tzuri, of course, who alternately twitches and moans from the depths of image-rich puppy sleep, or runs amuck like a shooting star in combustible fits of joy.


She’s twelve weeks now, the last four of which the two of us have been locked in rigorous mutual training sessions. I have learned that the orange dish towel is for tug-o’-war, and that when she “wins” she is to get a treat. The odd-shaped kong toy that bounces goofy when I throw it she will retrieve if I say “fetch” and give her a reward when she drops it at my feet. “Komm” and “Setz” are no problem as long as I also include hand signals because my German accent is nicht so gut. Food rewards mandatory after each performance, did I mention that?

Platz” she hasn’t learned me yet. “Nein” is optional.

tzuri with bone

Tzuri does dutifully piddle and poop in the yard . . . mostly – although I suspect she often squats and fakes it just for the tasty morsel I always give her.

[She pretends to be quite the grownup after a poop and tries to “mark” her territory by scratching with her back legs. Comically, when one leg leaves the ground she becomes like a three-legged stool and topples over.]

Leash training?

Animal behaviorists take note: Tzuri has decided that her leash is a live slithering thing with one end being the ‘head’ and the other a ‘tail’. She instinctively grabs it just behind the metal clip and shakes it violently back and forth to break its “neck.”

We don’t get very far on walks, needless to say.

It’s when her eyes light up like mushroom clouds that I know to take cover. In what I call her “mc2” mode she explodes in a demolition derby of figure-eights around the yard or the living room at suicide speed.

tzuri running

In such moments Tzuri has surrendered to primal urges, slipped into a zone where she is not consciously in control – operating from somewhere down in the Reticular Activating System (RAS) near the tiny amygdala or the red-hot hypothalamus, wherever – and thus she’s nearly impossible to reign in. Far too many times in such a state of hyperactivity I mistakenly thought it would be fun to roll and wrestle and play with her only to end up oozing blood.

[Interestingly, Tzuri tenderly licks the very scabs on my hands and arms and legs which she herself created.]

And just as quickly, she implodes. She can go half the day as well as most of the night recharging herself without a whimper or the need to go outside.

🙂 Which gives me time to lick MY wounds, too. 🙂

Look at this gal.

Is that confidence, a commanding presence, or what?

She knows who’s the alpha ’round here!

tzuri vom kirsys

After all, I’M tethered to the other end of the leash!

john and tzuri

A la Pozzo & Lucky, the two Samuel Beckett characters yoked together by a rope in “Waiting For Godot,” it is not entirely clear who is the master and who is the slave.

🙂 🙂 🙂

[To Be Continued…]

17 Replies to “Pozzo & Lucky”

  1. She looks like she is going to be a big girl with those thick, sturdy legs she has. I love the running photo as well as the one with her laying down behind the ferns. Have fun!


    1. Everyone seems to agree that she is indeed going to be big, although certainly I didn’t get her with that in mind. Fun, too – although right now the word I’m settling for is, she’s an “adventure.” Thanks…


  2. This is such a fine read, oh what a time you describe in the adventures of Tzuri and (on the other end of the leash) John. I asked myself why I break into laughter whenever I see her picture, and I think it is the delightful vision of the healthy beautious pup who has not fully got control of her current size or future size or stately importance in life yet it is all visible to the onlooker, what Tzuri is what Tzuri will be. And really there is a great deal of pleasure in reading your fascination with this great ball of livliness and her every thought and inclination. It’s touching, it’s great. She exudes (that last come-hither photograph especially) total confidence, trust in her ‘dad’ and his care for all that will ever happen. Bravo and hoorah, the pup and the guy.


    1. “Stately” is the right word I think, too. I can’t keep from staring at her, watching her every move and trying to read her mind. And I’m hooked on blogging about her every twitch, probably much to the dismay of some who have come to expect raptors and bears from me. But Tzuri is my own little wolf pup and an incredible delight to belong to. Thanks…


    1. Thanks, Ron. Puppy-sitting right now is keeping me from totin’ my 400mm around with you guys in the wild. But she’s only a puppy once.


  3. Clearly looks like you’ve got a handful there. That last shot looks like she’s thinking: ‘this dude is going to take quite a bit of training’!


  4. Ha! So great!! Story and photos!!!
    But I’m sorry, it is “entirely clear who is the master and who is the slave.”


    1. Okay, Bruce, enough of that! We don’t allow the naked truth here, I am in charge and the Emperor IS wearing clothes


      1. Okay. Clothed truth only and thank Godot Tzuri is the only one in her birthday suit!!


  5. Cute dog!

    Where are you staying?



    1. She has me in a decent sized crate with all the amenities except a wet bar. When I get to exercise in the yard I smell water and it seems to still be Daylight Savings Time. I’m thinking East Coast somewhere.


  6. What a charmer is your Tzuri! If she had a finger it’s certain we would ALL be wrapped around it like a string. I enjoy your writing so much, and the pictures…fastastic!

    Take care, John!


    1. Tzuri is indeed a charmer. Thanks so much, Elisa, for your kind words. I always look forward to your posts.


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