He did it! Dash finally taught a cat brother how to play "Aby style." Every night around ten, he gets a burst of energy and attempts to get everyone else involved. Like a human kid, I think Dash knows it's almost bedtime and he wants to get in as much playtime as possible before it's lights out. On a side note, his mania isn't helping his case to be free at night.
So, last night, we watched him school Chance in a game of hide and seek. Andy was the first to notice what was happening. We put a gate up to the front bedroom, to keep the dogs out of there. This is Dash's domain and we know from experience the dogs would eat his food and invade the litter boxes. Hurdling the gate has become a nighttime ritual for Dash, and is essential to the game.
Here is how the game worked:
Dash chased Chance into the bedroom, then he quickly ran back out and hid. When Chance came looking for him, Dash ambushed him. Here's the good part - they then reversed roles! Chance hid from Dash and jumped him when he came into the room. It was hilarious. Like Robin Williams' character, a professor in Dead Poets' Society, Dash was triumphant that he finally had a breakthrough with one of his students! It also made me realize Chance is way smarter than he lets on....
Dash also displayed his prowess as a soccer star. He has a few tiny rubber balls that we have to hide from the Bullys, who would most likely swallow them. I caught Jack the other day chewing something suspicious. When I asked him to spit it out, he plooped a green, gummy ball on the couch. Now, that looked like a two thousand dollar ball to me - roughly the cost of extracting it from his blocked up bowels. We can't take any chances. Anyway, Dash loves those things and uses the same precision to handle the ball and run as any professional soccer player. I was impressed. I also had to go looking for it when he was done playing, before Jack or Rooney found it.
Speaking of impressed, my son posted a picture of himself and his girlfriend riding horseback in the ocean. Not on the beach - in the water. Now this was a brave venture for a Matchett. We aren't known for our luck on horseback.
A few examples:
When I was a kid, my father took my cousin and me riding. Her horse was pregnant and my horse really pissed hers off. I ended up taking one for the team when her horse attempted to kick mine and nailed my shin instead.
Then there was the time we rented a pony for our son's second birthday. It rained, so the kids had to ride the pony around in the garage. When our son had his turn, the pony decided to bow down and he went over the top and landed on the cement floor. It took awhile for us to coax him back onto a horse.
My own adventure riding horseback on the beach in Cabo was one I'll never forget. Let's just say, my horse, whose bridle was held together with paper clips, really wanted to throw me into the ocean, not ride merrily next to it. And, I had to learn quickly how to say stop, go, and please don't buck me off into the ocean in Spanish. All I can remember is "Andele!" and "Jesu Cristo!"
So to see my kid riding the surf on horseback - well - he must have really wanted to impress his girlfriend. I saw the pictures but can't wait to hear the real story. I'm betting there is a lost wallet or sunglasses in the details.
Speaking of my son reminds me of my grandkids. They are turning into little ghouls. Awhile back I wrote about my grandson declaring the hamster was dead, which sent us all running into the room to check it out. The hamster was fine. When asked why he said that, the little guy just shrugged and said, "Well, he looked dead." Then, the other day, when the kids were leaving, I stopped to look at Rooney who was passed out on the couch. My granddaughter, channeling her best Wednesday Addams, stopped and asked, "Is she dead?" WTH? I wonder if that's what they're thinking when Gigi nods off in her recliner?
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