Crazy Dog Lady!

My mother has turned into the crazy dog lady! She has a car seat, a basket for her bicycle, and a ‘castle bed’ for her little pooch. Last year, the Christmas cards she sent out were home made – and featured Sasha on the front with a bow in her hair. She told me last week that she actually went and made an ID bracelet with Sasha’s name on it… and she wears it! Funny thing is I always thought my mother HATED dogs.

She told me she loves her dog, and I explained that I love my dogs too – and we include them in our activities. If we’re out, they’re out. We take them for rides ‘just because’. Roscoe loves the beach and Maggie loves to go hiking.

In an effort to show my mother that my dogs are ‘cooler’ than hers, I introduced them to the internet. Yes, I created a Facebook page for my dogs. The kids are of course mortified that Geoff and I have done this and they’re refusing to friend the dogs. I had daggers thrown at me from Caitlin’s eyes when I announced to her that quite a few friends of hers friended both dogs. “WHAT??? You’re sending friend requests from THE DOGS to MY FRIENDS? Have you lost your mind Mum? OMG. That’s so embarrassing. Don’t send one to me, I am not accepting it. I am not going to be friends with my dog on Facebook. Good God Mum!” She then promptly stormed off to her room. A few hours later, she had accepted both friend requests.

Won’t you be friends with them too? I can’t wait to show this to my mother.

Roscoe Jack Russell - terrierdog6476@yahoo.com
And
Maggie Dane – Maggie.dane@yahoo.com

Yeah, I’m a tool and I do love my dogs dearly – but I’d rather take heat for having a Facebook page than to have someone ask about my ID bracelet.

Rock on with your bad self,

H

A letter to my dogs.

Don't get me wrong.

I love dogs.

I've got a Jack Russell Terrier, and Geoff's got a Great Dane. They get along great - they're complete opposites but they don't know that. They are the best of friends and look after one another. It's endearing...

However, as dogs, they of course do things that completely tick me off. Get on the furniture and lick themselves so much it leaves wet sloppy spots that I always end up sitting in, they bring things in from outside that are not meant to come in (sometimes things that are completely unrecognizable), Maggie especially likes to take anything sweet off the counter and have a snack. Sweet rolls, donuts, cookies, cake, pie, doesn't matter; she's not picky. And there is always a mess going on somewhere with the floor; be it drool, hair or something else that they 'drop' every so often...There's also the occasion they just use whatever is laying around to make their mess.

I came across this 'letter to my dog' and I found it so appropriate I have personalized it, printed it out and will take it home to stick on the fridge. (Of course, I am always thinking of others, and think that if I post it here, you too can use it in your home.)

Dear Roscoe and Maggie,

The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Placing a paw print in the middle of my plate of food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and/or dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest. Feel free to consume that which has fallen from my plate onto the floor.

The hallway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Racing me down the hallway is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run. This applies to the stairs as well Maggie...

I cannot buy afford to buy a bed bigger than the one I have. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort, however. You can actually curl up in a ball, you know. You do not have to stretch out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out on the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom! If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the door in an attempt to open the door. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years - canine attendance is not required. Not to mention, you stare. I don't like that.

The proper order for kissing is: Kiss me first, then go smell each others butts. I cannot stress this enough. GROSS!

We love you, but honestly, enough is enough!

That being said, in fairness to Roscoe and Maggie, I have posted the following message on the front (and back) doors of our house:

TO ALL NON-PET OWNERS WHO VISIT AND WANT TO COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR DOGS:

(1) They live here. You don't.
(2) If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture or just go home now.

(3) We like our dogs a lot better than we like most people, so don't push it.
(4) To you, they are just animals. To us, they are adopted children who are short, hairy, walk on all fours and thankfully...Oh praise God, don't talk.

Rock on with your bad self,

H

Runaway dog!

So, as you know, I moved in with my boyfriend about two months ago (holy crap! it's been that long already?? Wow - time really flies when your life is great!) and as you could imagine, it was an adjustment for everyone. Especially our pets. Well, my pet anyway. He is a 7 year old Jack Russell Terrier named Roscoe, but normally we just call him 'Dude'. Saving ROSCOE for when he's naughty... Maggie is Geoff's dog, and she is a Great Dane. She is probably the coolest dog I have ever met! She is 7 as well, and the two of them get along great!

Anyhow, The Dude has always liked to get up on the furniture, sleep with me at night (even getting under the covers to keep warm) have his 'bones and cookies' all to himself and one of his favorite past times was to run off and go visit the neighbors. Well, The Dude no longer sleeps on the bed, he has his own bed. He is actually doing really well with it, he knows at bedtime just where to go and that it is just for him. Which is good. We actually have dog beds all over the house for them, two in the living room, one in the kitchen two more upstairs in the bedroom, and we even put one out in the garage! Hey - who wants to lie on cold cement? Sometimes they even share a bed, which is really neat because of the size difference.

Of all his behaviours, the one I like the least is of course the one he decided to not give up on his own...and it drives me nuts! He is as fast as lightening when he runs, and once his nose is down is is consumed with following the scent he's found, and it takes an act of congress to break his concentration long enough to get his attention so we can tell him to come back. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't. When we moved one of my concerns was that we live so close to a busy road, was the dog running out and getting hit.

We decided to get a 'training' collar. Now, initially I was concerned that I was going to be hurting him, but let me tell you, any shock he might get from that collar is FAR less than the pain he'd get if he ran out into the road and got squashed by a car tire... Well, so far the collar works great - when it's turned on and actually on the dog... ARRGGGHHHH!

We've been busy in the yard the past few weekends getting mowed, raked, weeded, etc.. Getting everything tidied up for the winter. We've been cutting down dead trees, stacking the wood, getting a brush pile ready for burning, etc. We love to have the dogs out running around with us letting them hang out and do their doggy thing. They love it too. Last weekend, we trimmed the hydreanga tree, and had all the blooms sitting in 5 gal buckets awaiting their fate. The Dude hung out by those buckets for about 5 hours watching the bumble bees weave in and out and all around. He was completely mesmerized by them.

I told him what a good boy he was, and went inside to get something to drink, and when I came out, he wasn't there. I walked around calling to him, but no dog. Geoff called him, no dog. I had the 'remote' to his 'training collar' in my pocket and I pressed the 'warning' button - this emits a short beep to let him know that if he doesn't show up in T-Minus 5 seconds, he's going to get a zap from his collar.

This usually gets him back very quickly. Well, not this time. I walked the entire yard, and up and down the street in front of the house, pushing the warning button. Fearful the entire time that he would come darting out into the road and get hit. After about 15 minutes I started to change my attitude from being worried, to being downright cross. Another 15 minutes later, I was wayyyyy past cross, and onto being mad. After about 10 minutes of being mad, and cussing a blue streak at a dog who couldn't hear me, I decided to get in the car and go looking up and down the road.

I drove around our neighborhood holding the remote out the window pressing the 'warning' tone to see if I could see him moving in anyones yard. Oh - did I neglect to mention that when he ran off it was dusk?.. Little brat...

After 30 more minutes of wasting gas, and driving around aimlessly, I decided that there wasn't anything I could do. I mean, I can't just start walking through people's yards with a flashlight now can I? I was over being mad at this point, and was back to being worried. The dog has never been out alone all night, he is in a relatively new area, he has really bad eyesight at night, and we live on a busy road. I prepared myself to have a sleepless night, and went home. After sitting and brooding for a while, I decided that I needed to go to bed, but first I would send an email to my friend Wendy at the ARL and the local police department.
I told the dispatcher who was taking my call, the information on where I lived, what the dogs name and temperament was just in case they got a call, and as she was getting ready to end the call, who should come running around the corner and up on to the porch, but the dog! I couldn't believe it!

Never in his entire career of running off, has he decided to come back on his own. I was shocked. The dispatcher I was on the phone with, suggested that the mere threat of the police out looking for him was enough to make him want to come home in a hurry!

I quickly went from being sad to happy, and greeted the dog with open arms and the suggestion that he not run off again because it wasn't in his best interest. I 'beeped' the collar and I think he got the point. He hasn't run off since then, but I know that nothing is forever - and when he gets his courage back again, I can already assume that he will take full advantage of the moment that my back is once again turned.

Look at that face, how can I stay mad? He really is a good dog, he just likes to go around the neighborhood when it isn't really convenient for him to do so. It's not convenient for me either, and that is why the collar is on ALL THE TIME NOW. I will watch him and if he gets too close to an area that he should be staying away from, I don't bother with the 'warning' now, it's all about the 'zap'. Seems to be working.

He's pretty smart too... Now he knows that my bark is a lot less offensive than the bite of his collar...

Rock on with your bad self,

H

P.S.

Recently, Geoff found this cartoon - and we tried it out.

Well yeah... We're tools like that, so of course we tried it. When they misbehave, when we want their attention or sometimes just to be pains in their butts - we exclaim loudly "HEY!" their responses seem to be appropriate for the action, normally they both come running! If you have a dog, say it to them and see what they do...