Lancelot Picspam! (And Alex Too)
The dogs have continued to be completely different from each other. Lancelot is more the typical Golden: he loves to retrieve, and he aims to please. Alex is more a rebel. (He takes after his Mommy!) He's defiant and can be really difficult. Alex and I actually had a falling out a few weeks ago when we couldn't really stand to be around each other. He was acting out, and I was responding and not very nicely. But we're working on our relationship, and things are much better now.
Lancelot's mother was a red Golden. Lance, too, has turned red, whereas Alex is really pale in color. And, I have to say it, and, yes, you can accuse me of bias, but Alex is the most beautiful Golden Retriever that I've ever seen. I stand in stores, thumbing through books about Golden Retrievers looking for one more beautiful than Alex, and I can't find one. There are times when he runs in the yard with those feathers on the breeze, and he's simply stunning. And those eyes ... his eyes could melt anyone. Bobby and I think that the true judge of evil is whether or not a person thinks that a Golden Retriever puppy is cute. And we further think that Dick Cheney and Karl Rove probably eat Golden Retriever puppies for breakfast! :^P
Lancelot, on the other hand, is just downright cute. He doesn't have big soulful eyes like Alex but little black beady eyes. I call him Ragdoll because, now that his feathers are growing out, with his messy, patchy hair and his black-button eyes, he looks like a ragdoll.
He also does something that Bobby calls Shake-a-Butt. Whenever he is excited to see someone, his entire butt wags back and forth like a hula dancer. We still need to take a video of that.
Then, he does something that we call Pacman. When we come home, just like the Pacman games, he is unable to stand still. He scampers all around the house and one can imagine him scarfing down little yellow pixel-beads. We make the Pacman gobbling sound--wahwahwahwahwahwahwah--whenever he does this. And he does this while also doing Shake-a-Butt, which looks pretty hilarious.
I know, stfu and get to the pictures already!
Lance was intimidated by going down long flights up steps for the longest time. Short flights--like the back steps--didn't bother him at all. It got so bad that I had to train him one step higher each day till he could do the whole flight. Here, he contemplates the terrifying length of the basement stairs:
When Lancelot was small, he loved to cuddle with Alex. Alex ... tolerated it. He would usually lay still until Lancelot fell asleep. Then he'd get up and move a few feet away.
Now that they're both mostly grown up, Lancelot never wants to cuddle. Alex, on the other hand, spends an hour each night sleeping on the couch with his head on my shoulder while we watch movies.
Alex getting ready to enjoy the Ravens cookie that he got for his birthday.
The dogs aren't allowed to hang their heads out of the window since this can be dangerous and bad for them (grit in the eyes, especially), but they are allowed to enjoy the wind in their faces through the open window.
Before they are allowed to have anything to eat, they are expected to be gentleman. They know the command "Gentlemen" means that they have to sit down in front of us and be still. Two gentlemen:
They learn this one pretty fast!
My garden gnome!
Being truly spoiled dogs, Lancelot and Alex have their own pool.
Their Daddy has two feet but, of course, they have to crowd around just one.
I can almost hear Alex thinking, "When will this snuggle phase pass?"
If I go into the basement, the Goldens both become immediately concerned. "What is Mommy doing? Is it worth us going down all of those steps to help? What if she needs us? What if she's in danger? Maybe we should go downstairs ..."
By that time, of course, I'm done doing whatever I was doing and have come back upstairs.
Bobby pre-beard with his new baby.
(I told Bobby today that it's kind of funny, since he's grown a beard and had about three different hairstyles since we got Alex, in the Photobucket album for dog pictures, it seems he looks different in every picture that I have of him.)
Oh, and his hockey jersey is for Alex Ovechkin, our Alex's namesake.
Baby's first bath.
Unlike Alex, Lancelot loves baths and loves the water.
But he looks pretty miserable here.
Lancelot is really doing a good job of helping Alex with that huge bone.
Lancelot is also his Mommy's baby. In other words, it fits that a dog of mine would curl up every night in a beanbag with my cloak and his Daddy's chainmail.
And now, after all that posing for pictures, Lancelot needs a rest.