Someone commented on my last post asking what Bumpus is up to lately. I also had people ask about him within the past week on the Twitter and the Facespace, independent of each other. I think that since I don't write much about him, folks assume he's quietly slipped out of the picture or is wasting away from neglect?
Not hardly :)
Bumpus just doesn't make it onto the blog very often because unlike Isis, he is not My Dog. Bumpus is very much Big Child's Dog, and is politely affectionate to other members of the household, but that's it. He has absolutely no regard for strangers; he is a true hound to the bone (which isn't far, haha).
During the worst of Hurricane Sandy's LIMITED impact here, the MFA Children were with their father and CATHERINE! (they have a generator and we do not, so I let them choose where they wanted to ride out the storm and once they found out we might lose power they chose there) and Hotter and I were home with the animals. More specifically, we were lounging in bed in our jammies with Isis at our feet. "I think we should let Bumpus in here with us," I said, finally. "He might be scared all alone in Big Child's room." So Hotter grumbled a little and went and tried to get Bumpus. Who thumped his tail but snuggled more deeply and stubbornly into Big Child's pillow, which he was curled around huffing the scent of Big Child's head. "No thank-you," he said quite plainly in Hound, "this is where I belong."
I got kinda sentimental about the Bumpus-hound after that comment came in earlier and went into Big Child's room to pat him, and found him ecstatically chewing Skittles. He didn't touch any of the chocolate, but demolished the fruity types of candy from Big Child's trick-or-treat pumpkin. So he won't die unless Big Child strangles him when he gets home from school (he totally knew he'd done wrong, too--as soon as he saw me notice what he was eating he dove under Big Child's bed in a painful-sounding clatter of bones, I didn't even say anything, haha).