Finally Tuckered Out

Poor Lab kids. They've gotten more crate-time than usual the past few days. We started power-washing our deck this weekend to clean and prepare it for water-sealing (a home maintenance job we should do every two-to-three years, but that we haven't done in in five!). Because the washer's compressed water stream is so strong, we can't have the Labs around when we use it. The spray could hurt them.

So for their protection (and our productivity), the canine crew stays indoors when we do the deck.

All day Sunday they remained indoors while DH and I power-washed years of dirt and mildew off cedar planks and posts.

Then, all day the next day, they were crated again because I was gone for the day.

That's two days in a row with far less exercise than normal. Imagine how bonkers they were when I got home yesterday.

I'd planned to continue working on the deck last evening when I got back, but after taking one look at those 10 pleading Labrador eyes I realized the kidlets needed time outside far more than I needed to wash another foot or two of decking (this is a painstakingly slow job).

So out they went.

Did I mention how hot and humid it was here yesterday? I only threw the kong once or twice for them when they started panting up a storm. So I stopped. I didn't want to get the gang overheated, especially since yesterday was the first grossly humid day we've had in a long time and the kids have been cooped up in central air for two days. For the next two hours I let them romp on their own.

And romp they did.

But all that romping didn't make a dent in their energy levels. So we kept them outside until dinner, they came in to eat and remained crated another hour post-dinner (normal dinner routine). After that we took them outside again.

This time DH threw with them non-stop for I don't know how long. It had to have been over an hour. It was so uncomfortably humid outside, even Tuc and Pinot begged to stop and come in.

Here they are when we finally let them quit:


Ridge bee-lined for his cave:





















Elsie claimed the brick floor:























The rest of the crew headed for the concrete floor in the kennel room (has radiant heat in the floor, but that's long-turned-off by this time of year):

Kenya and Pinot plunked down in the middle of the room:


































And Tuc -- now remember, this is Arizona-born Tuc, out-in-the-desert-where-it-gets-really-hot-born Tuc, Tuc who we thought wold love the heat Tuc -- where do you think he plopped himself down?

On the refreshing brick floor?

On the always-cool-to-touch wood laminate in the kitchen?

On the concrete floor beneath the ceiling fan where it's breezy and cool?

Nope.

Where did Tuc plop himself?





















On top of the water bowls.

Why stand for a drink when sprawling on top of the drink will do?


















He even shared his space with Pinot.

How noble of him.

















Wow! It just occurred to me: We finally tuckered them out -- all five of them! Tuc and Pinot included! I thought we'd never do it.

Guess how long they stayed tuckered out?

Not even five minutes.

When DH stepped out through the kennel-room door to get the mail, Master Tuc (yes, the very same Tuc who was so whooped three minutes earlier that he couldn't stand up to get his drink) was at the door in a flash.

Oh, and he wasn't just sitting by the door, either:


HeyDad!WhereareyaDad?CanIcometoo,Dad?





















Daaaaa-aaad!Where'dyagoDad?






















Ohboyohboyohboyohboyohboy!It'sDad!























Yessss...it'sreallyDad!CanyouseemeDad?





















Ahhh..life with Labs. :D

Silly goofy kids. Hehe.

I'm powerwashing again today (if the thunderstorms ever blow through). So, yes, the fur-kids will have to be indoors again. I guess we'll just have to whoop them out later this evening when it cools off.

This time, when they're cooling off, we'll have to make sure no one uses kennel-room door. Maybe we'll actually get them to rest and be still for a while longer.

Say...hmmm... for maybe seven minutes?

'Til next time,
Joan