Our newest member! Not entirely by choice!

This little beggar of a kitten showed up just before it got really cold. I called the neighbours and no one said it was theirs (or they didn't want to admit it!). We already have three cats and certainly didn't need a fourth. I asked our neighbour across the road, if they wanted him in their barn. I mean, he is very sweet and cuddly but we don't need four cats. The ones we already have were hissing and swatting at him and the dogs kept chasing him. Talk about rejection from everyone. Anyway, the neighbour said he'd take him. So, to fool the cat, I drove him down our road and back again, then handed him off to the neighbour while I stayed in the vehicle then made a quick getaway. Not quick enough! 

The cat came back the very next day! 

(I bet you sung that sentence didn't you :-)

I didn't want to take the cat to the Animal Protection League as I knew they already had many cats without homes - so, I put up a poster in our school and yes, I was going for emotional manipulation of the children. 

Here's the poster.

It still didn't work. No one phoned! By now my eldest son, was calling the cat Elvis. 

*~*

I guess we have four cats.

Meet Elvis, our newest addition!

Yup! Christmas is coming!

Friday I got busy and wrapped some Christmas presents. I was in a bit of a rush and was wrapping in warp speed to be able to make an appointment.  All nicely wrapped, I popped the gifts I'd wrapped under the tree and got ready and left for my appointment. Two hours later I got a call, on my cell, from my son; "When are you coming home?". I could tell by his tone of voice something was definitely not good. "What happened?", I asked. "Hope ripped into some of the presents and she ate a whole bunch of chocolates".
Nine of the boxes I wrapped were Toffifee, the small 15 piece packages - I thought it'd be nice to give one to each family member for Christmas *~*. I asked my son to take the dog outside for a bit then leave her in the laundry room until I got home. I didn't know how much she'd eaten and whether she'd be sick or not. When I arrived home I discovered out of the nine boxes of Toffifee she had eaten 4 whole boxes - that's 60 pieces and she had also ripped into and ate a tray of cherries cordial chocolate which amounted to another 6 pieces. All in all I knew that wasn't likely a toxic level of chocolate but it wasn't good for her to have all that sugar in her either. (Strangely enough she was not climbing the drapes on a sugar high). I called the vet and their recommendation was to give her a tablespoon of hydrogen peroxide to induce vomiting!?? I didn't know you could ingest that stuff? So I grabbed my old children's liquid medication syringe and force fed her the hydrogen peroxide. The vet said we may have to wait about 20 min. for it to work so my husband and I watched her (she was outside), from the kitchen window.  Not even ten minutes later she emptied her stomach and an awful lot of chocolate was evacuated including the whole hazelnuts from the middle of each Toffifee. :-P I never even thought this dog could smell chocolate through plastic cellophane, cardboard and wrapping paper. I guess until Christmas is over she'll have to camp out in the laundry room when I need to go out. There are definitely some drawbacks to dog ownership! Ho, Ho, Ho!

Portrait of a DOG

Gracie, the day of her rescue

It has been a year ago today, December 1, 2010. Gracie was one of 24 Shepherds seized from a farm near where we live. She had been living with the other Shepherds in deplorable conditions. The rescuers found her hiding in a burrow she had dug out of the piled manure they all lived on.  She was 37 pounds worth of skin and bones, had bite marks on her ears and nose and was terrified of people. I have kept somewhat up-to-date on the page marked "Gracie" but I wanted to celebrate her one year anniversary of her emancipation here.

It has not been smooth sailing but it has been a slow and constant climb up from neglect and lack of socialization. 

Our first meeting

I will never forget our first meeting. Looking down on her in the pen was heartbreaking. She was so small and emaciated. Because of her longer guard hairs you couldn't see the boniness of her body but you could feel each vertebrae, each rib, hip bones and collar bones. She ran around and around the pen trying to avoid us but there was no where to hide. I asked if I could go in and I walked in and sat down with my back against the wall and just waited. She paced and did everything in her power to get as far from me as she could. I just waited and eventually she was curious enough to smell me, then let me touch her head and stroke her back. My hand could feel every vertebrae down her spine and she'd flinch when I'd touch her. I wanted to cry. I knew we had to take her home and care for her. She came home on December 6 and we installed her directly into the outside doghouse set up with a heat lamp. She stayed outside in the doghouse; firstly, to make sure she wasn't carrying any contagious diseases and secondly, we weren't sure how she'd respond to a loud, bustling household. She seemed to appreciate being in the doghouse and would run inside whenever anyone approached. I spent hours inside the doghouse, (it's big!), petting, brushing, trimming nails, cleaning ears, talking. I was allowed to do whatever I needed to do to her for her care and she laid stone still, hardly moving. She rarely even looked directly at me but always laid in the corner of the doghouse, probably hoping I'd go away quickly and not torture her. She was so thin, when I sat quietly, you could hear her heart beating from three feet away. 

It took three baths to finally clear away all the hard manure caked in her fur especially around her neck and down her tail, but the smell did not improve until summer when she went swimming regularly. She had health problems in the beginning and has come through them all. She was spayed as a requirement for us to adopt her as no one was sure whether these dogs had been line bred nor how healthy, psychologically, the pups would be and most importantly, none of these dogs were physically well enough to carry healthy pups. When we got Gracie we were told she was approximately 18 months old  but just watching her I knew she was probably only 8 months old. When she was taken in to be spayed the vet agreed she was likely 7-9 months old due to her immature uterus and it was evident she had not had a heat yet.

Gracie's first introduction to Hope, our Golden Retriever/Lab did not go very well which was my fault. Gracie was in her doghouse and Hope just "popped in" to say Hi! Gracie made the strangest sounds I've ever heard so I quickly hauled Hope out and kept them apart until the next day. I had been walking Hope and had her on a leash,  as we approached the doghouse Gracie came out and Hope and she were able to meet properly and they hit it off immediately. Hope became a therapy dog for Gracie. They played and wrestled and ran together. If I needed Gracie to come out of her doghouse I just brought Hope with me and Gracie would come right out to her. Without Hope, we had to drag her out of the doghouse which wasn't very good at breaking down the walls of mistrust.

Gracie's health is good now. She is still under her ideal weight at 52 pounds but she is shiny-coated and can run like the wind. She loves to fetch and play tug-o-war with Hope. She will be playful with me, at times, and will wag her tail sometimes. I have finally got a kiss on the cheek, this past Friday, November 25, 2011, when I was giving her a bath. :-)  She is learning "sit" and "stay" and has gotten fairly proficient at it. She is very wary of strangers and still barks and bristles at the boys but they are no longer feeling threatened by her and her barking is getting less ferocious. She has finally made eye contact without fear. I have officially started to train her and when we go to the pasture for time together she will make direct eye contact and wait with anticipation, instead of cowering fear, for what I will ask of her. She is not a perfect dog and we still struggle with housebreaking issues and her barking at people and not coming when she should but when I look back at her progress I keep the hope that she will continue to "become".

When we first brought her in the house to live, last February, she would hide in the dark corner of the bathroom, by the toilet, or in the portable kennel in the laundry room or any dark corner, and stay there for hours unless we took her out to go to the bathroom. Now she follows me all over the house, never hides in the bathroom. We took down the kennel because she wasn't hiding in it anymore and she will join us in the family room, when we watch a movie, and is presently laying, on her side, sleeping under the computer desk while I type this. I'm not sure she will ever be a happy, relaxed, friendly Shepherd with everyone, but she is healthy, loved and safe and we work forward continually.

We celebrate Gracies birthday on June 21 as that's the day we were officially granted the right to be her adopted family. She is no longer referred to as #19 at the vet's office and her file is in our family file with the rest of our furry family members. 

Happy Anniversary Gracie!

Gracie, giving me her full attention. One year later.

Mid September Swim

I took the dogs for a walk yesterday. Beautiful fall day, sunny, 12 degrees. I took the Chuck it ball and the frisbee for the dogs to play in the pasture. Excellent toys for both dogs and they love the competition of running together for them. I just have to remember to get them back before we head home as the path to the pasture leads right along the river. Yesterday I was so enjoying the walk - lost in thought - I forgot to get the frisbee back from the dogs and off they went for a dip in the river. Too late I realized my mistake. The place the dogs always head for is down a beaver trail, along a steep embankment. The river is shallow - no more than knee deep for me. From the pathway I can see the dogs frolicking in the water up to their bellies and as the sand settles I can see exactly where the red frisbee has sunk to the bottom and is laying in the sand! Hope is very smart and knew it was there - somewhere - but from her perspective she could not see it. Now I had two choices: nearly kill myself trying to get down the steep, muddy, hawthorn infested descent or kiss the frisbee good bye and chock it up to experience. Well, I may have been willing to leave it if I couldn't actually see it laying on the bottom, glowing red, taunting me in the shallow water. It was driving me rather nuts to see it and not be able to get it. So I made my decision and went for it. Running shoes, jeans and all I slid down the muddy embankment grabbing grasses and trying to avoid the hawthorns. I tried to step into the river but sank up to my calf in river bottom mud. So now one runner and pant leg was soaking wet and I stood on the shore contemplating my next move... give up and climb back up... or jump into the centre of the river, where it was sandy, and hope I landed on my feet and not my face. Both dogs were delirious with excitement and jumping with soggy, muddy paws and bodies all over me nearly pushing me into the river ready or not. So I took the plunge and jumped to the middle... thankfully landing on my feet but now definitely wet from the thighs down. I waded to the opposite shore; which was beachy and open, located the frisbee and waded back in to grab it, of course getting the sleeve of my hoody wet up to my elbow. Now that I had the frisbee back in my possession the dogs were thrilled and wanted to go again. Humph!!!!

View from the top!

I was now half wet, muddy, not really very cold but on the wrong side of the river from home. I waded back across the river and managed to find a lower, more gradual, climb to the top but that meant traipsing through thistle, rose bushes, more hawthorns, and all kinds of fluffy seed plants that wanted to attach themselves to my sodden legs and sleeve. I was quite the picture when I got home. We have a carpenter at our place adding a veranda onto our house. I had told him I was going for a walk in case the kids got home before I did. He was the first person I saw when I got back (of course!!!!). He took one look and asked if I fell in the river *~*. At least I could save some dignity and admit I purposely chose to get wet  to retrieve the frisbee, hoping that that admission made me look BRAVE and adventurous instead of stupid and clutzy. Somehow I don't think it made me look better. The kids were already home from school as my half hour walked turned into more than an hour.
So, end of story, all turned out well. I got the frisbee back and had the adventure of doing something out of character for a mom my age :-). Here's the $10 million dollar question: How come it was O.K. for me to do it (and actually rather fun! ;-) but I would have flipped out and been mad if one of my boys had  done the same thing- coming home all wet and muddy and doing something SOooooo dangerous? Neither of the boys asked me that question...  they knew better - I probably would have flipped out on them! :-)

The Big Jump

 I've waited fourteen year to have a roof outside our bedroom window so that I could clean the picture windows on the outside. No one was getting me on an extension ladder - two floors up - so I've waited.  That doesn't mean they haven't been washed in fourteen years but not for quite a while and not by me. So this summer we have built a covered wraparound veranda. I have a beautiful sloped roof and I was waiting in anticipation of the day they shingled it to get out there and wash the windows. I got all my equipment ready and out on the roof, tied myself around the waist and the other end around the casement window (I know - I'm a wimp!) and climbed out on the roof. Then sat down. The tilt on the roof, which looked like nothing when I stood inside, in my safe bedroom, was making me sweat actually being on it. I inched my way across the roof on my butt, kind of like the crab walk we did in phys. ed. in school and realized that there was no way I was going to be able to stand up and turn my back on the slope with nothing to hang on to. Landen, my 8 year old comes to the window to ask if he could watch T.V. "No", I said, "I want you to read a book for a while". Humph! The kid could have gone anywhere in the house to read but instead he installed himself on the rattan stool in the corner of the bedroom, by the open window. I'm still struggling to figure out how to turn and clean the window without falling to my death. Ben, my 12 year old, comes to the window to ask me something... don't even know what it was I was so nervous. I told him not to talk to me until I came in again (if I came in again *~*). I tried many things to try and wash those windows... grabbing the window frame, getting on my knees which still left me too short to reach the top, everything I tried did not accomplish the desired outcome of getting those windows cleaned. Because I was on my bum, or knees, the water from the window was, of course, pouring down the roof underneath me. Finally I gave up, and in frustration moved my soaking wet behind, inch by inch, back to the open window. When I noticed Landen sitting there I said, "Child, with all the places you could have gone to read in this house why would you chose to sit right there?" I was testy by now, more mad with myself for not being brave enough to throw caution to the wind (no pun intended) and wash those windows. Landen said he just felt like being there. Guess what book he chose to read? "The Big Jump". That amused me and I sat on the roof laughing like an idiot - pants all wet, tied to the open window. I crawled back in the bedroom and stood there looking at the roof I had waited fourteen years for knowing I had been defeated by it's slope. All day I was mad at myself. I had to go out and when I came home I looked at that roof again and decided to conquer it! This time I stayed on my feet and side stepped over to the window then turned sideways and washed those two windows!!!! I still couldn't look at them face on but at least I could reach the top. It is not the best job I've ever done but I was quite thrilled to have accomplished the goal. I'm still scared but now I know I can do it. It definitely gives me a huge appreciation for roofers.

Almost a sad tail!

Well, I can't believe I haven't added anything here since May! Summer is busy usually - this year has been no exception.
Last week we woke up to a sick, lethargic dog. Hope didn't want to eat (first clue something was terribly wrong - she is a pig who swallows everything and anything offered without even tasting or chewing usually), she was bleary eyed, didn't want to come when called (second major clue as Hope LOVES attention!). She wasn't panting with tongue hanging out but was making rapid shallow puffing noises so we took a trip to the vet. O.K. I was seriously expecting we were going to lose her that day and was on the verge of tears most of the day (I love that dog! :'} ). The vet checked her out and did blood work and he still wasn't totally sure but figures she has some kind of lung infection. We brought her home with a course of antibiotics to take. I didn't sleep well that night and got up to check on her. She normally sleeps with Landen but she chose to sleep in the office. At 4 a.m. I got up to check on her somewhat expecting to find she had died. She hadn't... but she wasn't "well" either. By morning she was pretty chipper and in many ways like her healthy self. She is still on antibiotics and seems "normal" but my gut is telling me something still isn't quite right.
Gracie is well and much healthier than she was in December when we got her. Her main issue is that she has taken a "dislike" to Ben & Landen and barks and bristles at them more often than not. She seems fine with everyone else, even strangers. I know the boys have never done any harm to her but as boys they run around and make weird noises plus they don't always smell really good *~* but we can't figure out why she wants to eat them! She hasn't snapped at them but she will bark and growl. I don't know what to think. We may not be able to keep her. I went to camp for a week and all four of my guys were here at home and she seemed to be fine. When I came home she went back to barking again. Jealousy? Protective? It is a mystery to us. We are working on it!

Can I survive MAY?

IT'S MAY 31st PEOPLE!! How can it still be only 6.8 degrees celsius outside? and raining... which really feels more like snow *~*. The cats have all gone into hibernation mode and are holing up in the greenhouse where it's warm. Even the dogs don't want out. I've been using the treadmill for both dogs in this weather mostly because I'm too whimpy and then have to clean up two big dogs after. It's a perfect win win situation for me... I get to watch T.V., fold laundry and the dogs go for a half hour walk each and we're all dry and happy. I hope this is not a preview of what our summer will hold.

My Favorite Videos

 

I love this dog! He makes me smile every time and I've watched this a lot!

His voice is perfect for his look. Unlike the Garfield cartoon where his voice is nowhere near what I imagined in my head from the comics.                                                           

 

Most neurotic dog I've ever seen! 

It's funny but man if he's that stupid 

what would he do to some unsuspecting person who reaches out?

                            
Another great voiceover video... the guy who does these is good!

Kids!

It was a beautiful June evening in 2005. I was busy doing something in the house. Ben, then 6 and Landen 3, were playing somewhere. It took me a while to realize everything was a little too quiet. You know that feeling as a parent when you just "KNOW" your kids are up to no good.

Who would think these two cute boys could get into so much trouble!?

Well, I went in search of my youngest two to see what they were doing. As I entered the kitchen I heard muffled giggles. Approaching the back door of the house I met the boys coming in from outside. Their startled gazes met mine and now I was certain they were getting into something. I asked what they were doing, then I noticed my flour scoop in Ben's hand. Ben's immediate response was, "Nothing!" Landen - being a true little brother parroted Ben's "Nothing" with one of his own. I asked again, "What were you doing????? ", as I opened the door to follow the trail they had just come from. I was greeted with flour all over the deck and sitting in the middle was a very - 'white' dog!

Bessie after her attack! :- }

Bessie!!!! Poor Bessie, the unwitting victim of two little boy's terrorist attack with flour. Although I was really mad, Bessie's pitiful face looking up at me - blinking through her attack of flour dust was just too funny. I grabbed my camera but she wasn't seeing the humour in taking pictures at a time like this so she beat a hasty retreat to shake off what she could. I got a few pictures to prove the deed for later evidence. The boys have no excuse for wanting to flour the dog. It just seemed like fun at the time... - the things our pets have to put up with from the kids!

Not amused!

What a Great Card!!!!

Yesterday was Mother's Day. I was able to share my day with my husband, all of my children and my three Grandsons. Can't get better than that! ( Except if my son-in-law could have come too!)  I wonder why some people don't celebrate these special days - birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine's Day? Are we too busy to care? Too self absorbed to think of someone else? My Mother-in-law used to say to my husband, "You're not my father!"- excusing herself for not acknowledging him on Father's Day. He was her only child giving her her only four grandkids, but he wasn't her father so the day didn't need to be celebrated. That always makes me sad. These days are meant to be celebrated! I watch my daughter with her three young sons. She is so young and has so much responsibility already yet she has risen to the occasion! Mother's Day is only one opportunity to let her know she doing a great job, that I notice she's doing a great job, I'm proud of her and I love her. It is also an opportunity for my kids and I to draw together even if we've had disagreements or I have had to discipline them - to put it aside for a time and appreciate each other. Mother's Day isn't just for moms to receive it's a day to celebrate the lives God has given to us. To let our kids know we love them back.

I got the coolest card from my son yesterday! Actually I got two wonderful cards from him. This one I share here because it is uniquely connected to this blog, and our present situation since we adopted Gracie, our rescued German Shepherd (read her story on the page entitled, Gracie). This is the card my son gave me!

                        

Isn't that the coolest card? It's a Hallmark. They do think of everything don't they?!

So you see... everyone can celebrated on Mother's Day.  

Happy Mother's Day

My mom's been gone for fifteen years already. I can't tell you the number of times I have wished she was around to talk to. "Mom, what did you do when I was a teen and I did that?", "Mom, how did you make that crumble on top of those fruit-filled buns you used to make?", " Mom, do you ever stop worrying?"
There have been those Ahha! moments when life replays itself through your children and you have a flash back of yourself doing the same thing. Only now you're on the other side of the fence as the parent. "I get it  mom! I understand how you felt - now!", and you share a secret smile as you say the words you hated hearing but you now speak, "Wait 'til you have children of your own."or "When I was your age...."
Two of my children are now adults and the younger two are gaining momentum in reaching that goal too. My eldest, our daughter, has three babies of her own. It surprises me now and then, when I stop and pay attention, that she is actually a mother of three children! That makes me a Grandmother of three children!
How is that possible? (I mean I KNOW how that's possible *-*), just how can I already have lived so much of my life - I should still be newly married, having babies myself. Well, maybe not quite *!*

I had a mother to mother connection with our neighbour's cat. She was a lovely calico kitty that really belonged to the neighbours but seemed to prefer our place so we named her, "Patches" and gave her love and food and the freedom to live where she chose. This cat and I understood each other. She had had a number of batches of kittens in our greenhouse and allowed us to let our children learn about birthing and allowed us to help raise them. She and I just had an understanding, she seemed to know when I needed her and I knew when she needed me.
One morning, I awoke to Patches crying at our second story, bedroom window. She had never climbed the roof before so I was at the window in seconds when I heard her cry. I knew she had had a new batch of babies because I had seen them frolicking on the driveway the evening before. They were playing under and around my mother-in-law's truck. That morning, when I went to the window to open it and talk to Patches, I somehow knew that she was trying to tell me something had happened to her babies. I somehow also knew, that I had to go to my mother-in-law's place and look for the kittens. She only lived down the road. I hurriedly got dressed and drove over to her house. Sure enough there were three healthy little kitties playing around my mother-in-law's truck. I don't know how they did it. How they all got from our place to her place together, and unharmed, but there they were. So I packed them up and brought them back to their mama. We had many fine years together, Patches and I. Sharing motherhood between the species! When she lost another batch of kittens to an unfortunate accident she again appeared at my bedroom window with milk bags full for kittens that weren't there to drink. I had so much empathy for her as a nursing mom myself, I went and got warm compresses to place on her swollen underbelly and stroked her silky head knowing there was nothing to do for her but to let her know she wasn't alone and that I cared. Funny, to think so many miss out on having animal friends.

Victory!

Hope is finally catching on to walking on a leash WITH me. I was starting to think it wasn't going to happen. Every walk was a major ordeal and I was tiring of trying but not getting anywhere fast (literally!)
We would walk, jerk, stop, turn, jerk, turn, walk, stop, jerk in front of our house back and forth and not really getting too far. Today! Hope got it! We actually were able to walk from the house - half a mile down the road and back, with very little stopping. It's empowering I tell you... makes me want to walk every where now just so we can do it together.

Dogs know what they're doing!

When two adults decide to own a dog it is necessary that both people agree on how to train the dog!
Most of the dog shows I've watched the main issue is always between the owners not having their act together.
When we first got Hope as an eight week old pup, I wanted her to be well trained so I borrowed every book I could get from the library, researched her breed characteristics online, started watching The Dog Whisperer...   anything I could get my hands on. I wanted to 'raise' this dog to be a contributing K-9 to society. I wanted to teach her "rules, boundaries and limitations" just as Cesar Milan says you should. http://www.cesarsway.com/tips/basics/rules-boundaries-and-limitations
So I began... but every step of the way Brian (my husband of 25 years!) - who was formerly of the mindset that a dog belongs outside - fell in love with Hope and was going to spoil her. "Look, she's just like a person that can't talk.", he'd say. She became his or should I say... "He became hers".  He spoiled her rotten. We had her spayed in June of last year and by August, when I brought her to the vet for her vaccines, she had gained 22 pounds from being fed treats and table scraps! *~* She was being spoiled into obesity.

Here's a great story of personal experience! (I can tell it because I was in the right!) :-)

To help housebreak Hope we would keep her in her kennel overnight so that she learned to hold her bladder. She was a quick learner and after the first few weeks could sleep through the night and not have to go outside to pee. As she got older we started trying her out of the kennel at night to see if she had 'got' the idea of waiting until morning. All went well... no accidents, she was successfully housebroken. Months later, she came late one night to Brian's side of the bed and jumped up to paw him awake. He figured she had to go outside so he got up and let her out. When she came in I heard the kitchen cupboard open and the pull-out drawer being slid out. I knew by the sound it was the cupboard where we keep the dog treats. Now, in the beginning I knew Brian always 'treated' the dog when housebreaking her and he would give her a treat if she had successfully gone to the bathroom outside. I didn't agree with the idea but decided to leave it. But this??? When Brian came back to bed I said, "You know, you're starting a bad habit. She's going to start waking you up at all hours of the night especially if you 'treat' her for doing it." Nope, he felt she was being a good dog for telling him she had to go out and for not messing inside and she deserved a treat............*~*
Months went by....... Hope came in at 2 a.m. or 3:27 or 5:42 or whenever she felt like it and pawed Brian awake to get let outside and then get a treat. He was being used by his dog and couldn't see it! And they say animals are dumb!

Brian's idea - don't look at me

Brian was going away for a week in November and I had forewarned him that there was noooo way! I was getting up in the night to let the dog out. If she tried it with me she would be spending the night back in her kennel. The first night Brian was gone I went to bed anticipating a midnight rendezvous with Hope. I fell asleep, awoke to my alarm in the morning and Hope sleepily greeted me in the hallway. We went downstairs... there were no messes. The rest of the week went the same. Not once did she come to wake me. I am a light sleeper, especially when I am the only adult home with the kids, and I know Hope didn't even enter the room. Now I wanted to see what happened when Brian came home - how premeditated was her middle-of- the-night wake up calls? The first night Brian was sleeping in his bed, after a week's absence, in walked Hope at 5:30 a.m. I heard her come; she walked around the bed - dog tag gently jingling as she approached, and jumped up on Brian's side of the bed. I sat bolt upright and bellowed at her, "GET OUT! OUT!!! GO LAY DOWN. OUT!" She attempted one more time to get Brian to move, who, I'm sure, was shocked awake by now. As he didn't move, (smart man), Hope slowly left the room head hanging down. She gave me one last pathetic dog look at the door and when I yelled, "OUT!" she left to go lay down on our son's bed. The next day she made the attempt again but I was able to stop her in her tracks just as she entered the doorway with a sharp, "OUT!" and to this day she has not troubled us to be let out ahead of our alarm even on days when we sleep in. Don't kid yourself dogs are brilliant! To those who say animals can not reason or problem solve I say, "Think again!"

Hope is very well behaved by all standards - not perfect, but pretty close :-)
It's her owners that need help!

Can I survive Spring?

Yuck! is right!

Manitoba is cold and wet right now. For mid April we are still waking up to minus temperatures and daytime highs are not in the double digits often. Then we have Spring run off which - yes - could be worse but when you have two inside dogs and two inside male children (I guess you can't have outside male children... although I'm tempted! *~*) it can't be much worse - dirt wise. So let's look at the senario, boy leaves the house wearing rubber boots and clothing. Boy is later seen running around inside the house in his underwear - there are mud caked boots up to the hilt, on the deck and splatters of mud near the laundry hamper just inside the laundry room door which is just beside the mudroom (aptly named). After my tirade about, "Who's cleaning those boots off, mister? It isn't going to be me.",  I enter the laundry room  to investigate the mud there. (Note: I should have been an undercover cop, or detective or something because I am quite good at ferreting out evidence). In the hamper I discover a sodden pair of jeans - mud encrusted from bum to cuffs - along with a sweatshirt that is also mud caked on the sleeves from elbows to cuffs. I quickly deduced that my eight year old son had fallen in the mud and was trying to "hide" the evidence (like the situation will improve for him when I find this mess on laundry day?!). Thus started tirade #2!

We live in the country and although we have cats and dogs we do not have livestock, or a barn, so where does all the grass, mud and straw materialize from that gets dragged in? Do they have a secret stash somewhere? I have stopped putting the vacuum away because it needs doing twice a day.
Now, take the dogs...  I can't let them out loose or they go straight for the mud - without rubber boots! Neither are leash trained well. I'm working on the Brad Patterson method of umbilical training by wrapping a 6 foot leash around my waist and attaching a rowdy, two year old Retriever or a lunging 9 month old German Shepherd to the other end and bravely attempting to "walk" them. Hmmm.... got a mental picture of that yet?  If I'm one-on-one with them it isn't too bad but if my husband and I try this together!?.... I'm amazed whichever vital organs are between my rib cage and pelvis are still functioning! How much abuse and punishment is the human body to endure in the name of "responsible dog ownership". The dogs never power out, their tongues just get longer. I don't know how Cesar Milan does it. Maybe I need to try a cheap nylon rope like he uses, maybe the magic is in that. With my luck I'll just get severe rope burn and dislocated shoulders. Our three cats follow us on these "walks". I think they're laughing at me but I can't be sure.

Ownership

I think they know who's boss!

So, really, we "own" our animals? You bag or shovel up their poop, they wait at the door for you to let them out, you "walk" them - or in most cases they walk you, you wait outside in all kinds of bad weather for them to "do their thing" (which I really think they take longer to do in bad weather just to spite you), you vacuum and sweep their hair, brush and bathe them, and feed them and water them, pay for their toys, food and vet bills and you're their master?! Right!
And yet we wouldn't trade them for the world... except maybe when they shed all over, get into the garbage bag you forgot to take out, rip up a prized belonging or throw up or pee in the house! But if you were going to base dog and cat ownership on those inconvenient issues no one would have kids either, (minus the shedding my kids have all done all of the above and I wouldn't trade them either).

Beginnings

So, obviously if I've created a blog about dogs and cats I must share my life with them!
As a kid I wasn't able to have any animals because my brother was allergic to them. (Not fair to me!)  O.K., truth be told, I was allergic to cats too but that didn't stop me from owning two cats when I moved into my first apartment. I was so allergic in the early days I lived on Chloro-tripolon and on days when my allergies were especially bad I'd hang my head out the window and wheeze in fresh air. I know... stupid right?
But I loved my cats! When I was moving to Manitoba to get married I knew my cats would not take well to the move so I re-homed them for their happiness. Then I got my first DOG! Don't get me wrong - I still love my cats and presently have three of them - but dogs have a charm all their own. The first night I brought my new German Shepherd mix puppy back to my apartment I invited all my closest friends to come and meet her. Within 15 minutes she had cleared my townhouse of friends by unloading what must have been a weeks worth of "waste product" in the middle of the living room. You know who your friends are in a crisis as I watch mine jump the fence in their haste to get away from the stench - and so began my adventures into dog ownership.