Ollie! (Miller too)

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My pets are now, officially, running the house.

Ollie has toys all over the place.

The funniest part of it all is that he knows the names of all of them.

“Get pinky,” sends him off on a search to get a plastic pink thing that is fun for tug of war.

We laughed out loud the other night when I told him to ‘Get pinky, it’s upstairs.”

Up the stairs he went. Pinky was in my lap seconds later.

Yet, his football talents may exceed his baseball talents. Turns out that catching the baseball off the garage is no big deal.

He now is actually running routes, looking over his shoulder to see where the football is headed, and leaps to make the grab.

The first hundred times he did it, I laughed.

“He’s brilliant,” I mentioned as we headed in after he caught 35 out of 50. “I think I can teach this dog to talk.”

Yet, Miller isn’t far behind.

He no longer is shy about showing affection.

He jumps up to say ‘good-night’ to me each night, and as I dress for work, he’s right there beside me…

…saying ‘good-morning.’

Miller’s one big downfall?

He also has an internal clock.

He knows that bed time is between 9 and 10…

…tries his best to hold me to that on the weekends.

“It’s Friday!” I yell.

He doesn’t want to hear it.

When I stand up, he races for the stairs.

They’re running the joint.

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