I may have to revoke Selkie’s personal training medal.
Spriggan is not nearly as exciting or disturbing as she once was, so after a brief greeting (mostly forced upon her by the dachshund leaping into her eyeballs), Selkie pretty much gives up and lies down.
They still mouth at each other occasionally, and Spriggan chases Selkie around outside, but there’s no more hundred-lap kitchen runs.
This also means that Spriggan isn’t conking out quite the way she was before, and after being awakened at 5:30, 7:00, 8:00, 9:00, and 10:00 and then kept awake between 10 and 11 while trying furiously to sleep through being bathed in dachshund spit… I wish she were getting more exercise.
This, in turn, makes me wish I were comfortable walking around my neighborhood so that I didn’t feel like I’d have to drive her somewhere to walk her.
On the other hand, I’m very lucky that she’s not a particularly high-energy dog. She’s a very good speed for Mike and I, namely a cuddlebug who’s content to sleep 16 out of 24 hours a day.