Captain Woodrow F. Call entered our lives about 6 months ago. Yes, he was named after the character in Lonesome Dove ... the six-hour mini-series that is practically on a 24-hour loop at our house.
Woody is a lovable little guy, but has more energy than a 5-year-old the day after Halloween. Once he gets a little older, we will probably just set him loose in a cow pasture and let him burn some energy herding the cattle from corner to corner (those poor bovines). But in the meantime, he settles for 4-wheeler rides to the back field.
The only bad thing about the 4-wheeler rides is that Woodrow instinctively wants to herd the ATV. And that little brat is good. I can only go where he wants me to. He gets in the way so I would be forced to run him over to go in the other direction. Tempting, but I love that little dirtball too much.
C'mon mama, hurry up. You're slowing me down.
I'm not kidding when I say that little dude is fast. Maybe I should take him into the race track in town so he can win us some money. Go Woody go, mama needs a new pair of shoes... 
What? Is he slowing down? I think he might actually be getting tired. The impossible is happening before my very eyes.
He stopped. Mission: accomplished.
Wait a minute. Don't lay down. It's time to go home little fella'. Get up, get up, get up! I have things to do.
Not tonight I don't. Because his new trick is to lay under the 4-wheeler so I can't go anywhere. I think it's his way of saying -- I can play this game, too. You wear me out on the 4-wheeler? I will wear you down with my impromptu naps in the middle of the sod field.
I refuse to move. I will wedge myself so far under this hot 4-wheeler that you won't be able to get me out.
My dear sweet Woody, two can play that game. To the crate you go.
What a dope. But he's my dope and I love him.
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