Normally, when I bring the dogs over my parents', it's a horribly traumatic situation for their youngest dog Winston. Riley stomps around the house and yard, intimidating the 17lb Terrier for all he's worth. In the past, it wasn't unheard of for poor Winston to cower and pee uncontrollably as Riley came crashing through the front door.

The recent addition of Lacie to the family pack has changed all of that. No longer the smallest guy on the block, Winston played happily for hours tonight, the whole crew racing from one end of the yard to the other while we all looked on.

It was great fun, particularly for Lacie. It's likely the hardest she's ever played, and the improvement in her coordination and confidence over the three hours she was actively racing around with the other dogs was astounding.

When she first walked through the door, she was visibly nervous as the little white Jack Russells raced around her, sniffing unmentionables. A few minutes later, after an exploratory stroll around the back yard, she pounced on Winston and the games began.

By the time I got her home, she was nearly crosseyed with exhaustion. As I sat on the livingroom floor, relaxing with the TV, she slowly curled up beside me, let out a sigh, and fell fast asleep.

A tired puppy is a happy puppy.