Why dogs and cats are better than kids

Know I haven't checked in lately, just too busy. But this was worth taking the time for (and, besides, I could just cut and paste!). It's from one of the several pet-related things I subscribe to...

Dogs and cats are better than kids because they:

1. Eat less
2. Don't ask for money all the time
3. Are easier to train
4. Normally come when called
5. Never ask to drive the car
6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends
7. Don't smoke or drink
8. Don't have to buy the latest fashions
9. Don't want to wear your clothes
10. Don't need a 'gazillion' dollars for college.
11. And finally,...If they get pregnant, you can sell their children.

Here Ike, Ike...

Yes, it's true - we now have a parrot in our back yard! How cool is that? As best I can figure, it's not a wild parrot...it seems a lot bigger than the pictures I've been able to find of Monk parrots or parakeets (this guy definitely couldn't sit on my finger!) but he doesn't seem as bright green as the Eclectus parrot. For scale, the iron curve he's sitting on in this picture is 17" long. It's quite shy (which is why the picture isn't great, had to take it through the window and screen), but listens closely to vocalizations. Why "Ike?" Well, I called our vet tech Saturday morning to find out what - if anything - I should be doing for said parrot, and she suggested Ike. In "honor" of the hurricane, of course, but it also fits because we name all the girls after songs. And Ike Turner just died. Even more fitting, perhaps, both Ikes turned out to be bastards. So, for now we're putting out Velveeta cheese (in the squirrel's suet holder), and peanuts. However, the girls have already learned to troll for peanuts, so we have to figure out a platform of sorts to put the nuts on where the parrot can get to them and the girls can NOT. Also, the vet tech said red peppers - the hotter the better! Don't think I'm going to go there, though. Any and all suggestions welcome.

Emily and the toad

I've said it before, I'll say it again - border collies are the BEST!

I let the girls out a couple of mornings ago - one of those rainy mornings. I let them out into the garage area, which feeds to the back yard. Lo and behold there was a HUGE toad - bigger than a baseball - sitting there. Loretta takes one look and says, "oh no, no, it's too ugly to even LOOK at" as she daintily steps over it (and literally averting her eyes). Ruby looks, and takes one huge step over it. "Whatever." Emily, though - Emily sees it and GOES for it! Barking, snapping, herding. The toad went towards the refrigerator, Emily herds it back. Went for the back porch, not what Emily wanted. Finally, the poor thing hopped under a metal shelf rack, which seemed to at last satisfy Miss Emily. Not sure if it was out of sight out of mind, or whether her fun was just finished for the morning.

Top 10 Peeves Dogs Have With Humans

From one of the many "living with dogs" email things I subscribe to:

1. Blaming your farts on me..... not funny... not funny at all!

2. Yelling at me for barking. I'M A FRIGGIN' DOG

3. Taking me for a walk, then not letting me check stuff out. Exactly whose walk is this anyway?

4. Any trick that involves balancing food on my nose. Stop it!

5. Any haircut that involves bows or ribbons. Now you know why we chew your stuff up when you're not home.

6. The sleight of hand, fake fetch throw. You fooled a dog! Whoooo hoooooooo what a proud moment for the top of the food chain.

7. Taking me to the vet for "the big snip", then acting surprised when I freak out every time we go back!

8. Getting upset when I sniff the crotches of your guests. Sorry, but I haven't quite mastered that handshake thing yet.

9. Dog sweaters. Hello ??? Haven't you noticed the fur?

10. How you act disgusted when I lick myself. Look, we both know the truth. You're just jealous.

Finally - a funny story!

I've been prompting the dogs to do something stupid lately. "I don't have anything to blog about, y'all...can't one of you please make a fool out of yourself?" I guess the heat of the summer has gotten to them as well, because there was refusal to oblige. Until yesterday.

Tony brought home bagels. I'm not much of a bagel fan - for one thing, a whole bagel is just so much bread - but I decided to eat one yesterday morning. Anyway, the "old" carton of cream cheese was almost out (why, Tony, did you put it back in the refrigerator with a teaspoon of cream cheese in it?). Into the kitchen comes Rosalita (aka Piglet). Big, liquid brown eyes. But, remember, she's the one who is convinced that we try to poison her twice a day - once at breakfast and once at dinner. I held the carton down to her, and typical of a dog about to be poisoned, she wouldn't take it. So I just set it on her nose - kind of dangled it there. She sits up on her haunches (think a "begging" pose), Philly Cream Cheese container danging from the tip of her nose. Then she starts licking, which makes the container bounce up and down on her nose.....Fortunately, it fell off about the 5th lick - otherwise Tony would have had to take me to the hospital for a sedative to calm my hysterical laughter......

Spent all of 5 minutes in the yard!

Tony and I went to breakfast yesterday morning, and when I got home our next door neighbor the one with the cats) called and said, "You should go out and see your garden!" Well, there were dragonflies EVERYWHERE. I'm talking about dozens and dozens. The neighbor said that they had actually thinned out a bit. I took the camera out, but couldn't really get any pictures because they were flying continuously - never resting. It was pretty cool.

So, as I had the camera in my hand, I snapped a few shots. Surprisingly, most of them weren't great, I think maybe because of the light wind that was blowing (or because all I could think about was how hot is was, even though it was only 9am or so). The picture above is one of the few that came out. We have a lot - a LOT - of miniature roses in pots on the back porch. This is a shot of some of them.

And, on a happy note, Tony talked to the other-side neighbors - they're duck shopping! We've been so worried about the one lone little guy...every time we walk out in our back yard, he starts quacking like crazy. And, yes, of COURSE we quack back! I've thought about getting a duck quacker-thing - like they use for hunting to call ducks - but I'm not sure that it wouldn't upset him. Anybody know?

Rosalita

My (relatively new) camera has a B&W mode - gave it a try last week. This is Rosalita, the youngest of the girls...she's a sweetie.

We're all fine!

I know I haven't updated about the girls very recently - so, first, YES, we're all fine. Mom's just crazy-busy. Ruby's birthday was July 4, so while Tony and I celebrated with seasoned burgers, she had her own little "plain" hamburger patty. Yes, everybody got one, Ruby's was just a little bigger. She also got a teaspoon full of vanilla ice cream (no emails, please!) Her real birth date is unknown, of course, as she was a rescue from the Austin Humane Society. We got her close to Christmas time, and they told us she was 5 to 6 months old, so - voila! - July 4th it is!

And then there was one...

Went home to sad news yesterday. Tony called as I was heading home - he'd been out in the back yard, and noticed that there were no ducks in the neighbor's duck pen. He found one - okay - but the other was in the back of our yard, injured. He called our vet, and the vet said there was really nothing to do but try to get the little guy (girl?) to calm down, then make sure there was plenty of food and water. The neighbors, of course, weren't home.

Anyway, long story short, when we went back over the duck was dead. It was the first time I'd seem them really close up, and I was truly astonished at how beautiful they are. The owner came home shortly, and was very upset. Somehow the pen's gate got opened...I found out later in the evening from the neighbor on the other side of us that they had been out all day, so there's no telling how it got injured. I hope they don't leave the one poor little thing by itself in that pen....Here's a picture I found on mariegale.com - apparently they're mallards...I don't know much about ducks, I guess.

One decapitated bird

Our neighbor - whom I DEARLY love - has cats. Those of you who know me well know I'm an animal - not just dog - lover. With that being said, cats, like dogs, should be inside animals. For many reasons.

So, when I got home Friday, the first thing I did was let the girls out, then went to change clothes. As I'm passing back through the living room, I look out the window and see Loretta trying to eat something, right under the bird feeder. I rush out....and find a decapitated bird. A really beautiful bird. Some kind of sparrow, I think, but pretty none-the-less. I seriously doubt that Loretta pulled the head off and ate it, but of course that was my first thought. I can tell myself over and over that the cats are just doing what comes naturally, that it's just part of that food chain thing, but I really - REALLY - hate it when they predate on birds at the feeder. It just seems like the birds should be able to eat in peace, you know?

Loretta on the pillow

Loretta, within the last six months or so, has taken to laying on Tony's pillow after he leaves in the morning. As he gets up around 1am, we're talking most of the night. The girls' routine is to get up for a few minutes with dad, go outside to pee, then come back to bed with me. What's hard about Loretta's new position is that this is the exact same position my Susanna would assume each morning - the original "yellow dog," and the undisputed non-human love of my life. She did it to protect me, from whatever might come through that bedroom door. Loretta, I'm not so sure. She's like Susanna in ways - the typical golden retriever ways - but very unlike Susanna in many other ways. Anyway, I've just decided to enjoy it, the comfort it brings, regardless of her reasons or motivations.

Lots of panting

At my house. Me included (no no no not THAT kind of panting - WAY too hot for THAT!). Emily gets cooled off in the sprinkler every night, but everybody else is pretty much suffering. We're trying to keep the central AC set pretty high, and we have a window unit in the bedroom which we turn on at night. I have to share that with Ruby, as she lays on the bed RIGHT in front of it. Even with that the electricity bill I got over the weekend was - gulp - over $300. Yes, indeedy, it's gonna be a long LONG summer.

Five dogs....

equals approximately 10 vet visits a year - not counting going because they're "sick." It seems like all we do is go to the vet. Now, of course, you say, "Well, why don't you just arrange the vaccination schedules so they all "match?" First, of course, you just can't take five dogs to the vet at one time. Not even if they're well-behaved, which ours only partially are...actually, they're pretty much okay until you add Emily to the mix. Anyway. Trust me, five at once is tough. Second, in the dog world, as in the human world, there's a trend away from over-vaccination. Which means that the vet is really not willing to speed up one set of shots so that it coincides with another set of shots. In other words, if you have them vaccinated for parvo - a "6-month" shot - in January, then have them vaccinated for lepto - another 6-month shot - in March - that's three months apart, and the vet won't speed up one, and you can't really risk slowing down the other. So it makes for a LOT of visits. At least they went to every three years on the rabies....and our vet said that he really wouldn't even do it that often, except that it's required by law. When the dog's blood is titrated, there's still tons of antibodies even after three years (more than you wanted to know, right?).

Our poor, poor garden

I haven't been in the yard anywhere near as much as last year (in case you remember all the fabulous pictures I posted). It got too hot too early. Tony waters almost every afternoon, and stuff is completely wilted again by the very next morning. The only thing that seems to be thriving - and I can't figure this one out - is a canna lilly I planted in a container last summer. I know they're heat-resistant, but this is one tough plant. My best intentions were to split it this summer, but I didn't, and now it's taken over the pot. Pretty, though....

Took the camera outside, too!

So, again, a plethora of pictures. I decided to post one of Ruby in the squash patch, and one of Loretta with her new summer "do."

The reason Ruby looks so attentive here is because Tony is yelling "Ruby! Ruby! Get out of the squash!" Typical of Ruby, she's giving back her best "Why should I?" stare. Is she just gorgeous, or what?



Every summer, we have Loretta clipped down. Her hair is very thick, and pretty long, so I think she probably appreciates the clipping. Easier for us, too, as she loves the water so much. Would you guess that she's a total Daddy's girl?

Ready for spring to be over....

So I can get some SLEEP! LOL

We didn't really get any of the stuff downtown got - the UT campus looks like a war zone - but Emily knew something was going on. She hit me about midnight, and then again this morning around 5:30. This morning she was at least ready to settle right down on top of my head and go back to sleep. Which just proves that YES, you CAN sleep with a border collie hat!

Daisy wouldn't even come out of the bathroom this morning for breakfast, and trust me, Daisy LOVES chow. So, of course, I told her she'd just have to go hungry. Yeah, right. I wound up sitting on the toilet lid and holding her breakfast bowl for her while she ate...then she was fine, and was up and ready to go out for all of two seconds.




They have me well-trained, don't they?

Now what.

I think we have a snake. Like a real honest-to-god-I'm-gonna-scream-like-a-girl-if-I-see-it-snake. A couple of weeks ago, Tony comes in from the yard. He'd been talking to Jean, our next door neighbor. While he was talking to her, Ruby "got into something" along the fence line. When he came in, he said Jean swore it was a snake.

Me: "Did she see a snake?
Tony: "Well, no, I don't think so."
Me: "Do you think it was a snake?
Tony: "I dunno. But Jean sure thought it was a snake."

I was a bit concerned. We live definitely in town, but in an old neighborhood with lots of huge old trees and very large lots. There's always brush around. Dead stuff pulled from trees that gets piled up, stuff in the neighbor's yard (you know, the ones with the ducks) that has sat there a while and now has weeds growing up around it. But I wasn't terribly concerned. We've lived there for close to 30 years, and while I've seen plenty of grass snakes, and the occasional Texas Night Snake, I've never seen a real snake - a rattlesnake, copperhead, coral snake, etc. Large lizards don't count. But, over the weekend Emily was out in the back yard, and I just happened to stop and look out the back window. She was intently staring at something along the fence line of the fenced-off garden area. Then she suddenly jerked back 2 or 3 times - just like you've seen in the movies when a snake strikes at a dog. I immediately ran outside, grabbed a shovel. When I got out there, though, there was nothing. Emily was fine, no bites or marks. So, I guess, it could have been anything, right?

But, for now, I'm not letting them outside without me and the shovel. And I'm gonna learn to use that pellet gun.

Who really matters?

So, you know if you read my other blog that there was a rant about the economy. Actually, in re-reading it, it's much less political than I thought it would be when I started out. It was really just a mini-rant.

Not surprisingly, what prompted that economy rant was what psychologists call a "precipitating event:" Tony comes home yesterday and tells me that the distributors - as in food distributors - were talking about the impending food shortage. (Tony owns a bread route, he hangs with these guys every day.) Yes, you read that right - not the impending increased cost of food, but honest-to-god food shortages. While the immediate problem seems to be with grain - wheat, corn, etc. - I ask you, boys and girls: What do cows eat? And in another stellar economic move, some numnuts thought, "gee, wouldn't it be fun to tie the cost of corn to the cost of oil? Because, after all, biofuels are a growing industry and really (really) corn should be priced on the same scale as oil!" (This little tidbit came from one of my way-too-bright tutors.) So, vegetarian, carnivore, or omnivore, it would appear we're all screwed.

Yes, there's a point.

What's the first thing Tony and I worried about? Loretta's special diet. She has to eat k/d (Hill's Prescription Diet), which is low protein, low phosphorus food for dogs with renal disease. And, because Loretta eats k/d, they all eat k/d. And it's made primarily with - you guessed it - grain. So, no talking about going to Sam's or to Costco to stock up on food for us. Instead it was "how soon can we get by the vet to stock up on dog food?" Then Tony comes home with a HUGE food grade barrel so we'll have something in which to store the dog food stockpile.

Wonder what k/d tastes like? I may soon find out....

But look at this face - worth it or what?!

The new neighbors

Although we live on the OUTSKIRTS of town - barely anymore, but I guess technically - our new neighbors apparently think that we live in the COUNTRY! Perhaps they're just "city folk" who think that living 10 minutes away from the nearest Starbucks is a hardship...so what's this have to do with dogs? Well, Tony and I ate dinner out back last Sunday (steaks on the grill - it was Daisy's birthday, guess who got STEAK?!) and we noticed the neighbors had a couple of cages out back, with what looked like large birds in them. Parrots? But we hadn't heard anything...Too big for parakeets...maybe a cockatiel? As the afternoon progressed, we saw them laying what appeared to be vinyl way out in the back yard...finally saw what was in the cages - DUCKS! They are putting in a duck pond! I just can't imagine what the girls are going to do with ducks in the next yard! They have an adorable Boston Terrier, not sure what he will think, either. I'll keep y'all posted.

Pavlov, who? Or, who's Pavlov?

As Tony is typically up by 1am to go to work (the life of a bread man) he lets the girls out in the middle of the night for a quick pee. And, truthfully, on the mornings he does get to sleep in, they wake him up sometime between 3 and 5:30 or so, and he gets up and lets them out because it's easier for him to get back to sleep than it is for me.

But, occasionally, I am the early morning attendee to the "We gotta pee" pack. As I was this morning, around 4am. They all go out, except Daisy (she's really lazy, and I guess could hold it until the cows came home). They all come in - and go immediately go stake out the "cookie" jar. Yes, Daisy shows up, too. Too lazy to go out, but not too lazy to mooch. Apparently, whenever Tony lets them out in the middle of the night, he gives them a "good girl" treat when they come back in, just because they went out to pee! What a great life they have. I wish I got a cookie every time I pee....

Bath weekend

The first Saturday of the month is Dog Bath Weekend in the Way household. Certainly not joyfully anticipated - by any of us - but always badly needed. All of the girls are indoor dogs, and spend - MAYBE - a total of 15 - 20 hours outside a MONTH. I just don't know how they can get so dirty.

This weekend, I made the mistake of bathing Loretta first. Loretta does not like to be first, as this takes away her opportunity to be jealous of what the other dogs are doing or have. See how that works? Being second is best, because if you're second, you still get to be jealous; but if you're 3rd or 4th or 5th, then there's the chance that you're being ignored. Overlooked. Unloved. Do any of you have kids like this? LOL Anyway, Loretta pouted for the rest of the day. Next time I'll remember....

They missed me!

The girls have been ALL OVER ME since I "got home" from the Loren Stump class. Even though the class was here in Austin, it's a 30 minute drive both ways from my house, and we went until midnight and beyond several nights. I was able to have some time with them in the mornings, but precious little as mom was tired; at night almost no interaction. So, every minute of Sunday, and every minute I've been home since I've been a mom-magnet. Things are just starting to get back to normal so that they'll at least let me be in a different room than them for a bit. I'm actually a bit surprised that they didn't decide to be mad at me...

Anybody want a dog?

Rosalita had one of those nights. It was just warm enough - but just cool enough - that she couldn't make up her mind. Under the covers....on top of the covers....under the covers....on top of the covers. What makes it particularly bad are two things: she makes a HUGE production of how hot she is when she comes out from under. I'm talking snorting, spewing, everything but actually saying, "OMG I'm SO HOT!" The second thing is that when she gets that way, she pays no mind to what's the head or the foot of the bed. Where ever she happens to be sleeping when she gets hot, she heads out nose first. As a consequence, the bed clothes, sometime during the night, begin to resemble a huge laundry pile. Nothing is tucked in, anywhere. I've tugged, Tony's tugged, and as a result neither of us have covers. But Rosalita always finds a way back under...when she's cold, that is.

What it takes to make a dog happy

I subscribe to one of those "whatever of the day" things - this one about dogs. Today's post was a list of the 12 reasons a dog is happy all the time. I've seen the list before, in various permutations, but felt it merited a post here:

1. Everyone has the potential to be a good person (or dog)
2. You are never too old to make new friends
3. It doesn't matter what you did in the past - it matters only what you do now
4. Regrets don't do any good - just live for today
5. One should try to be happy every day
6. You are never too old to play
7. Food is a very good thing
8. Treats are a really, really good thing
9. Massages are the best relaxation
10. Money doesn't buy you love
11. One good toy is better than 10 bad toys
12. You don't need money to be happy

Although I realize that our lives - as humans - are not quite that simple, many of the things on this list ARE that simple. Go kiss all your pooches on the nose - once (at least) for you and once for me.

Thunder and Lightning

Thunder and Lightning. With Capital letters. We had storms roll through yesterday, and at our house, Thunder and Lightning is the girls' time to see exactly how much mom and dad love them.

Thankfully, Ruby and Rosalita pay little attention, other than to look at Emily, the border collie, to try to figure out what the hell she's up to. Emily, you see, wants me to sit on the couch and let her crawl up behind me and wrap herself around my neck. Literally - from shoulder to shoulder. Yes, really. Now, understand that this is the dog with the bad hips - she will not - can not - get up on the couch. Unless there is Thunder and Lightning. Loretta, the younger golden, used to pay no mind to Thunder and Lightning. Until she observed Emily and the attention she received. Loretta is a very jealous dog. So, in addition to the Emily-stole, I have a 70 pound golden in my lap. Daisy, mercifully (for me, anyway) goes and hides in the tiniest spot she can find when there is Thunder and Lightning. Last time I had to rescue her from behind the toilet in Tony's bathroom - she had wedged herself in so tightly she couldn't get out.

It's going to be a looooong Spring.

What do you do when.....

One of the girls here at work (and yes, I mean "girl," as in one of our wonderful and oh-so-capable student assistants) has a fairly new puppy - probably around 8 months old now. She always has questions for me, the undisputed resident dog expert. Her question today? "What do you do about the FIVE DOGS when it rains?" My response? Vacuum and mop A LOT.

She laughed, but I spoke the truth. Even though our backyard is mostly grass, they always to seem to find the one spot that isn't. And roll in it. Multiple times. Actually it's all pretty manageable except for Rosalita. You remember Rosalita - she's the almost-50 pound dog that sleeps under the covers. It gives spa treatment a whole new perspective. Most people would pay upwards of $200 for a full-body exfoliation....

Bringing home Daisy...and Loretta....

Tony says we got a two-fer. LOL

Loretta is a "Bush-bucks" baby. Remember back when we got the first tax "rebate?" Well, Susanna, the love of my life, had died about a year before. Tony decided that if we spent real money (as in real money) for a dog, they wouldn't get cancer ('Nanna had leukemia). So, to the $600 we got from the prez, we added a couple of hundred bucks, and picked out Loretta. Hey, don't grimace - the woman's show-quality dogs were $1,500 and up. Loretta, being only "pet-quality," was a bargain at $800. Anyway, one of the cool things about getting a dog this way is that you literally get to see them from almost day one. We saw Loretta for the first time when she was 3 days old. Of course, we didn't know which dog was Loretta yet LOL. In order to get Loretta, we had to agree to certain things (gee, you think the $ alone would have been enough, huh?). We agreed to 1) let the breeder pick out which would be our dog based on our habits and the households habits and the dogs' emerging personalities (we did get to pick the sex); 2) have her spayed, 3) not to breed her, 4) had her microchipped, 5) a bunch of other stuff that I can't remember, and 6) (and this is where Daisy comes in) to return her to the breeder if for any reason we didn't want her any more. We visited the "dogs who might be Loretta" quite a few times before we actually got to find out which one was Loretta. On one trip, about 3 weeks before Loretta could come home (no, still didn't know which female would be Loretta) we met Daisy. Daisy had been returned to the breeder (per the agreement) by the couple who purchased her. Seems they wanted children, couldn't get pregnant, settled for an expensive dog, got pregnant, didn't want dog any more. We volunteered to take her home with us. (Imagine that.) The breeder couldn't let us have her at that point, because there was a good chance Daisy wouldn't live - seems like the assholes neglected to take her to the vet, only returning her when she was at death's door. Republicans, no doubt. Anyway, it turned out that her medical problems were serious but very manageable - thyroid problems solved by a half a little tablet 2x a day. She got on medication, but was still terribly depressed. The breeder finally said we could take her - so, Daisy came home one week before Loretta. It was a rough few weeks. She was depressed, had NO hair, and didn't want to interact with us or the other dogs at all. She was 5 then; she's 11 now. See - some stories have a happy ending! So, to this day, when I say something about the $800 Loretta costs, Tony insists that we really only paid $400 for Loretta, and $400 for Daisy....That's Daisy in the picture...isn't she pretty?

And a good time was had by (almost) all

We got to spend some time outside last night - grilling hamburgers even, and here it is cold and raining today. Everybody was out except for Emily - her last xrays weren't good, and I'm truly beginning to worry about the quality of her life. It's by no means time to call it quits yet, but she loves to be with us and it really broke my heart that she chose to stay inside last night. Tony thinks she might have vision problems - she hasn't really like to go out when darkness is encroaching for quite some time, so maybe that's it. I know what parents must feel - if I could take her pain, I would.

What's "little" and what's "big?"

As you probably know, we have five "girls." The smallest - in terms of weight - is Emily, but for some reason I always think of Rosalita (aka "Piglet") as the smallest. Emily weighs around 45 pounds, Piglet about 50. So neither, in most people's worlds, are small dogs - right? Maybe it's just because they're the smallest dogs we've had in a while, and we've only ever had one that was smaller, Lucille, a party-colored cocker spaniel. But I digress a bit. Rosalita sleeps under the covers every night, either curled up at my stomach or all the way to our toes. Such a comfort. But, if somebody said to me, "Oh, my dog sleeps under the covers," my immediate vision would be a poodle, or a chiuaua. Or some combination of the two. But certainly not a 50-POUND DOG.

Putting the vet's kid's through college

Well, thankfully only one child, who's now practicing in his dad's office. With a master's in animal something-or-other. From some highly rated vet school. And, yes, he's very nice - and very smart. I'm delighted to see that my money was well-spent.

In looking around at what people say about their vets in the A-town, ours is really quite reasonable. But, let me tell you, "reasonable" is a very relative word. With 5 dogs, 3 of them with more-or-less chronic illnesses, spending $300 to $400 a visit isn't unusual. Emily had to have dental work last month, and we had her hips x-rayed to see how the damage to them has progressed (it’s worse, quite a bit worse but still manageable). That trip was $450. Then Ruby and Rosalita needed shots – Ruby all of them, Rosa just the 6-month ones. Daisy, Ruby, and Emily needed their “regular” meds, and we needed dog food (have to buy the special (read: expensive) kind now because of Loretta’s kidneys). That trip was $380. And there's at least one visit every two months. Oh well, wouldn't trade any of them for the world.

Back to the life with dogs

So, I'll step back from my blow-by-blow about the girls' entries into our lives, and talk about their "theirness" for a bit.

We have a really large back yard - it's around a quarter acre, maybe a bit more, but pretty big. The entire back yard is fenced in. And, we're fortunate to live in a neighborhood of big back yards, so we have fairly abundant wildlife considering we're technically in the city. Lots (!) of squirrels, flocks of birds, and, unfortunately, the neighbor's cats. (Don't get me wrong - I like cats. But they shit, dogs eat shit, dogs get worms. Pam is out $50 per dog to remove worms. And that's not even mentioning the yuk factor.) Anyway, there is a love seat that sits more-or-less beneath the window to the back yard. Yes, the placement is entirely my fault - it's their love seat, see? I have often wondered what they do during the day when we're both gone - perhaps a nanny cam is in order? When I'm home, it's a constant "Oh my god mom there's something in the back yard and it's come to kill us all! Must go out now! World peace and harmony, and possibly your life and ours depends on us going out now!" So, I get up to let them out. Emily, the border collie, whose job it is to control her sisters, bottles up everybody at the door. Much barking and snapping ensues. I've tried yelling, but all it gets me is a sore throat. By the time one of the others manages to break the bottleneck, and they actually GET OUTSIDE, they've either forgotten what was so important, or the object of interest is now in the next county.

I wouldn't miss this rowdiness for the world....

Ruby comes home

The trip home from the Humane Society with Ruby was a riot. Tony sat in the back seat with her - obviously her first time in a car - and she literally glommed on to him. Not in a needy, clingy, way, but sitting next to him butt-cheek-to-butt-cheek. Looking at me in the rear view mirror.

It was probably at least a year before Ruby would NOT sit cheek to cheek with one of us. If we were in bed, she was in bed. If I was on the couch, watching TV, she was sitting next to me - touching me in some way - watching TV with me. I really have no idea what created this strong need for closeness in her. It wasn't - well, it wasn't whiny-needy, you know? She was always supremely confident, her own dog so to speak, but she just really really wanted to be close.

I had anticipated that she would be destructive, based on her breed and her size, but I don’t think she’s ever torn up a single thing. The other girls love “woobies,” and a couple of them will happily rip woobies to shreds, but not Ruby.

It seems hard to believe now, but when Ruby came home we still had Peggy Sue, Bobby Jean, and Susanna….In fact Bobby Jean was almost a deal breaker, because she was already old, old – probably 15 – and starting to have seizures. One of the Humane Society’s things is that you have to bring the whole family to the facility to meet the potential adoptee. They put you all in a room with an animal trainer, who sits back and watches the interactions. I refused to take BJ, because of her age and health. They finally consented – possibly at least partly because our vet of years and years was on the Humane Society board (ya think?!) Anyway, I remember the trainer telling me that Ruby was younger, and would grow to be bigger and stronger than Susanna, the current 4-legged pack leader. Also, how I might have to get used to Ruby kicking Susanna out of bed, because she would take over as pack leader. “Yeah, right,” I thought to myself – you don’t know Susanna. More than being just the pack leader, Susanna was devoted to me – there was NO WAY she was going to allow Ruby to take that spot. I did worry a bit, to tell the truth. I didn’t want Susanna hurt. But, Ruby – yes, if you haven’t guessed by now, the perfect dog – never even challenged Susanna. But, the day after Susanna’s death, Ruby magnificently and benevolent assumed the leader position. That trainer knew dogs, but he didn’t know my dogs.

Ruby

Ruby - I don't even know how to start. I would say that to know Ruby is to love her, but she's so big she scares people easily. Also, I don't guess I'd really call her a people-person. She's too reserved, too judgmental. When somebody comes to the house, she quickly investigates, watches me for reactions, then retreats to a safe distance to observe. If the person comes back again (and usually at least once again), she may favor them by staying the same room with them. Maybe.

We adopted Ruby for our 25th wedding anniversary present. We had decided there was really nothing we needed, nothing we wanted in the way of more traditional gifts, so we decided to adopt a hard-to-place dog from the Austin Humane Society. What we had in mind was an older dog, probably on the small side. Ugly. Overlooked. You know. What we came home with was Ruby, a 6-month old Malamute-Rottweiler mix. We actually overlooked her the first time around, because she wasn't, well, she wasn't what we thought we were looking for. Then I saw her, in a large cage by herself. One shoulder leaning against the cage wall, just watching us - observing even then. "How about this one?" I asked my husband. "Well, I dunno, she's kinda big. I thought we were going for a small dog." But, there was just something about her, to me anyway, and I asked the assistant to let us take a closer look. So, we went into the little "visiting room," sat down, and they brought Ruby in. She immediately jumped up on the bench behind my husband, and basically wrapped herself around him. I didn't need to ask him again if she was the dog for us....LOL We then found out that she had been brought in by Malamute rescue - even though she was not full-blooded, somebody had taken her and a sibling to them, then they took the pups to ASPCA. Her sib was adopted quickly - they were only two months old at the time. Ruby had been at the Humane Society for FOUR MONTHS. She had actually been adopted a couple of times, but when her prospective family would come back for her - they make you wait a few days before getting to take the new family member home - she had visibly grown, and they opted out. To those two families that decided Ruby (then called Calamity) was too much - THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Ruby is now nine, will be 10 in July. Her adult weight hovers around 100 pounds. One of her favorite things to do is to come up behind me, and thrust herself between my legs, back to front - and she literally lifts me off the ground. There's a lot more to say about Ruby - it will take another post - or two...

Why a blog about life with dogs?

Well, first, because I couldn't find one. I tried a lot of names - My Life With Dogs, It's a Dog's Life, Pack Life (that's one's about the Green Bay Packers - I mean who cares?) before coming up with this name (more about that in a minute). None of them were about dogs. Most of them, in fact, were "blank blogs." There's probably a cyber-geek word for that - blogs without entries - but I don't know what it is. So, I delved into my dog quotes bookmarks, and found the one by Edith Wharton: My little dog - a heartbeat at my feet. Although none of my dogs are little, the smallest weighing well more than 40 pounds, they are indeed my daily heartbeats. People come and go, money comes and goes (yes, goes mostly). I cook - it's eaten. I wash clothes - again and again and again. It's Friday, and before an eyeblink it's Monday, and then lo and behold it's Friday again. But always there are the dogs, my "girls." Yes, of course, they come and go, too. Another favorite quote: Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really (Agnes Sligh Turnbull). They don't live long enough. Twelve or 14 years, if you're lucky. Bobby Jean was almost 17, but Susanna was only 9....Anyway, they are my constant in a world of uncertainties. I want to talk about them to myself, and perhaps to others as well.