Our beloveds have grown a little–though Ben–the all-black–stays slight and slim, perhaps by exerting more energy per metre than Usain Bolt winning the Olympic 100 meter dash this summer.
Beau pretends that he’s grown out of his crazy games stage–but fails to convince!
He needs the exercise–after hoovering up food from any spare plate.
(Echoes of Marmalade there….)
They appear unfairly matched–a heavyweight against a flyweight.
Nevertheless, young Ben is usually the attacker and Beau the only too-eager receiver.
More paws than claws; no biting either (as far as we can see) in the melées (happy about that!).
Younger brother vs. older brother more like.
Late evening, a sequence can run something like this:
Leap–roll–push off–pause(paws!)–walk away-walk back--languid lounge–yawn–wait–quick lick/scratch–pause–small haunchcrouch–couple of tail swishes–lean back and leap–repeat, repeat, repeat–retire.
They swagger back to their separate “corners” to catch their breaths before the bell rings for the next round and they hurl themselves at each other anew.
We are the exhausted ones at the finish.
Meredith caught them at full frolic–watched over at one point by disdainful a Pippa.