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Destinations, Dreams and Dogs - International adventure with a fast-track family (& dogs) of Old World values, adopting the Russian-Italian-American good life on the go…!

Papa and his Pack of Dogs

scottish-terrierWe have two of the cutest Scottish Terriers on the face of the earth. Misha and Grisha ooze charm and charisma as our goodwill ambassadors to the nations.

Even if not to the mailman and any wayward Mormons who dare to approach our property.

Then the two turn into snarling, protective warrior dogs with much gnashing of teeth.

For the holiday, I stayed with the kids and dogs at the dacha, while Benedetto went back to DC to fulfill an obligation there. Also, Petya, our eldest, came in by train late at night after visiting his girlfriend’s family, and my husband was there to meet him. They turned around and steamed back to us with only a few hours of sleep, pretty de rigeur in our sleep-deprived family….

Which brings us to the pooches. They were disconsolate without Benedetto.scottish-terrier2

Usually, if I stayed solo in one of our homes with the Scotties, they would miss the others. They might sit or sleep by the front door, ever on alert. Yet, this time, with most of the kids and not Benedetto in particular, Grisha the little guy would moan for him.

At night, a thunderstorm came through and Misha started to shake. The kids brought him to my bedroom, since I have shades which block any zigs and zags across the sky. In the public areas of the house, there are so many windows that there’s no escaping the sights and sounds of a summer storm.

I closed my door and help Misha close. Then the kids brought in Grisha.

“He might be lonely, Mama, if he doesn’t see Misha…” they explained.

“True….”

sleepingAnd thus, the two were nesting on my bed, each jumping off every few minutes to check if a lightning bolt had hit us (in Misha’s case), or if Papa had returned home (in Grisha’s case). By 3:00 a.m., I allowed Grisha to return to the living room and curl up on a chair near the door, ever vigilant for his beloved pack leader. Misha decided by 4:00 a.m. that he needed to go out, shooting straight off the bed and walking in circles.

Yep. I knew that move. Diarrhea. So I walked him quickly on the sodden, rain-soaked yard, dive-bombed by mosquitoes and bees (are they nocturnal?).

By late the next morning, Benedetto and Petya were back, and the dogs were over-the-top with joy, wagging, whimpering, all was well. That’s how it rolls in our house, with Papa and his pack.

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