Cattle Dogs?

There are various theories out there as to why exactly dogs eat grass.  Some say that when a dog's stomach is upset, they will eat grass to ease the discomfort.  Now, I like to think that my two pups are geniuses just like the rest of the dog owners out there, but I really don't get the feeling that they think to themselves, "Hmm, I'm feeling a bit off tonight, perhaps I shall go seek out a natural stomach calming remedy!"  So they eat grass and vomit it back up, usually on the carpet.  There are other vets that say that dogs eat grass simply because it tastes good.  An hour later, however, it becomes an irritant and up it comes, oftentimes accompanied by chunks of the $45 high-quality dog food you chose to feed your pet instead of the cheap grocery-store kind.

In the springtime, there is no shortage of the tall leafy green stuff along the banks of the creek that runs beside our home.  Many folks walk their dogs along the pathway around the creek, and many dogs will stop and nibble a blade or two for an on-the-go snack.  In contrast, my two run through along the bank, mouths open, looking like two contestants on "Minute to Win It" by cramming as much grass into their mouth as they can before I yank the leash and pull them back to the path.  They come back with grass blades hanging from their chins, smiling like a pair of happy cows.

At first I was rather alarmed at the rate they were playing weed-eater, and even looked online to see if there was some sort of reasoning for this.  The grass along the creek bank is not treated with pesticides or herbicides so at least they are not getting poisoned by this peculiar habit.  And Lord knows it's funny to watch.  But to see them make a bee-line for the meadow and snarf like a starving person at the all-you-can-eat salad bar, I always have to keep in mind that in the middle of the night I am bound to hear the familiar "hork-hork-hork" of Bodie performing his personal composting.  I'm pretty sure this is not what Al Gore had in mind when he told us all to "go green."

As summer approaches, these same sweet acres of green goodness turn to brown, crisp fire-hazard weeds full of foxtails, ticks, and other dog-unfriendly varmints.  Our latest walk had Leila bounding happily towards the amber waves, only to have me yank her back and make her heel on the path, much to her confusion.  That's okay, Leila, I have a whole yard at home with tufts of un-mowed grass sprouting up with your name on them.

Just please don't feel the need to give it back three hours later.



Dogs In Fall

Okay, I know the calendar says "Spring" but over here in NorCal, Mother Nature has been a bit bipolar (get it?) and we've had a little bit of everything EXCEPT Spring.  Some days are a bright, balmy 80+ degrees and within a day or two it is back to torrential rain and wind.  Then we bounce back into the high 70's and just when I think it's safe to pack away the sweaters and umbrellas and turn the sprinklers back on, the clouds roll in and the temperature drops dramatically.  With all the rain and cold come perennial mud flats in the back yard  which then get tracked into the house by eight thundering feet that go in and out about fifty times a day.  It's an endless battle and I find myself longing for the time when Spring comes in earnest and I can officially stop living in a swamp.

About the only season that seemed to play its part was Autumn.  It didn't rain much, but was cold and brisk in a refreshing sort of way.  The leaves turned orange and yellow and looked so dramatic on the trees until they fell.  The Summers out here are stifling hot and the Winter is wet and cold, but Autumn seems to like to be a referee between the two.

I could walk the dogs with ease during this time, without having to wipe wet muddy paws before they came in or worry about them overheating in the scorching sun.  They seemed to like walking in Autumn as well, although Leila would jump at the occasional falling leaf.  I wanted to share my favorite photo from one of our walks, when my eight-year old son took the reigns (literally!) and enjoyed a nice stroll along the creekside.

I showed this photo to my son, when we were sitting inside, drinking cocoa, and enjoying the quiet stillness of a brisk Autumn day.  My son looks at it carefully and says "The dogs look like they have leaves stuck to their butts!"

Okay, bonding moment over.

Stay tuned......

The Dogs of Winter

It may be spring-like conditions in many parts of the country, but here in California, winter is still alive and well, despite what the calendar says.  We have had a series of rainy, windy thunderstorms and the Sierra snowpack is 158% of normal.  Ordinarily I like winter and rain, but having to wipe down eight wet muddy feet every time they come in from a backyard romp (which is often) is starting to get really old.  I'm ready for spring!  But before winter bows out for good, I really wanted to get the pups and the kids up to the snow to have some fun while we can.

I figured the pups would love the snow, seeing how the hail from Berne, Switzerland which is no stranger to the fluffy white stuff.  But to be fair, my two pups were born in Iowa.  In July.  The closest they have ever gotten to their ancestry is when they stole a piece of Swiss cheese off my sandwich when I wasn't looking.  What if we drove all the way up to the mountains and they hated it?  They have already proven to have their odd quirks (Lord knows!) so why should this be any different?  I decided to push my luck and we loaded up the SUV with dogs, kids and all the accompaniments it takes for a day in the snow which pretty much filled it to the top.  Good thing we weren't going for the weekend, I'd have to rent a U-Haul.

As luck would have it, we managed to find a day last week when there was no rain or snow falling, we so headed up to beautiful Bear Valley, a three-hour drive into the Sierra Nevada mountain range.  A pretty short drive to get to 7,000 feet of snow; an eternity with two restless kids and two dogs giving their best effort to repeatedly climb into the center seat section of the SUV to escape their back-of-the-bus exile.  After a quick stop for gas, a dog pee-stop when we found a grassy area, and a pull-over stop to rescue a stolen bag of chips from the back and right the overturned cooler, we arrived at Bear Valley Village which to our amazement was bright, snowy and practically deserted.  We found a clearing off the main road where the kids could sled and the dogs could romp without fear of running into the street or annoying other guests.  We made it!

After piling into ski pants, jackets, gloves and snow boots, we opened the back of the SUV to get the dogs out and start our adventure.  Bodie, who was tired of being cooped up amidst inflatable sleds and duffel bags, jumped out of the SUV and began his happy "Bodie dance" around us to stretch his legs.  He didn't bother to investigate the 7-foot high snow bank next to the car but left a "yellow snow" tattoo to commemorate the occasion.  The kids were equally as antsy to begin playing and before long I was completely tangled up with a dog leash and sled tow-rope while trying to keep my footing on the icy road.  Are we having fun yet?

All this time Leila is standing in the back of the SUV, pacing back and forth and giving me her combo bark/whine/protest.  Apparently she was agitated that she was separated from Bodie, but not mad enough to actually jump down and join him.  I tried pulling on her leash to lead her to the edge of the car and she put the brakes on in a way that only a terrified 60-pound puppy can do.  Suddenly Bodie leaps back up into the SUV, his big wet feet getting blobs of dirty snow all over the clean clothes pile.  I seemed to be moving backwards in my attempt to unload the car of all things dog!  The kids are about to explode with anticipation of heading across the street to try out the sleds, so my husband shoos them over and they take off like a shot.  Seeing them run off, Bodie once again leaps from the car in an attempt to follow them.  I tell my husband, "Take Bodie over, I'll get Leila out and be there in a minute."

The "minute" turned into twenty of them.

No matter what I did, Leila was not going to get out of the SUV.  Little Miss Dainty apparently had zero inclination of getting her feet cold and wet.  I tried tugging on her leash, which only made her dig in harder.  I tried coaxing her with a biscuit which she sniffed at but only stretched her neck over, keeping her feet firmly planted in the back of the cargo section.  I tried opening the side door of the car and folding the seat down to have her come out that way....no luck.  I even tried crawling in and grabbing her in a fireman's carry hold, to which she responded with an artistic back-bend and wriggle technique to get away from me.  By now she was shivering with terror so I sat down next to her and tried to calm both of us down.  I could only envision the steam that would spout from my husband's ears when he learned that we drove all the way up here and Leila would not get out of the vehicle on any account.  Just then I saw my husband and Bodie walking back to the car.  I started to panic.  I tried reasoning with Leila (why I thought this would work is beyond me but I was desperate at this point!), digging out more biscuits, even trying a piece of string cheese I dug from the bottom of the cooler.  No dice.  My husband and Bodieso's that were about to come flying my way.  "I'm sorry!" I started before he could say anything, almost in tears by this point.  "I've tried everything but she won't get out of the car!  I don't know what else to do!"

Leila took one look at Bodie and flew out of the back of the SUV to his side.

"So, what's the problem?" my husband said, clearly amused.  I was speechless.  I thought of a million witty retorts to throw at him but they all paled next to my first reaction: get the hell out of the car and shut the hatch before the bitch jumps back in!!!

We finally got both dogs and kids to the clearing in the snow and to my delight (and total relief!) the dogs had a blast!  We dropped the leashes so they could run free since we were alone (but me, always the cautious one, kept the leashes dragging behind them in case I needed to make a leaping grab to catch on of them) and the two of them ran, leaped and dug in the snow like it was their own personal playground.  Leila ate some, found it interesting, and sampled it in various locations.  Bodie took the time to mark several spots with his signature yellow, which made me laugh.  They chased the kids, rolled around, and completely wore themselves out.

When it was time to go, I had a horrible idea that now Leila would probably not get back into the truck, just to make me crazy.  But no, they both flew up into the cargo area, their backsides covered in frozen "dingleberries" which were luckily just water.  We hadn't even put the SUV into "drive" yet and both dogs were laying down, exhausted.  Mid-way home I glanced back and saw my eight-year old had put down the center seat and was lying down with his head in the cargo area, Leila asleep with her chin resting on his head.  A big pile of tired, happy campers.

So Leila could not deny she had a good time in the snow.  Hopefully in the future, when we go on another new adventure, she will trust me, do what I say and have another great time, you think?

Yeah, me neither.



That's What Happens When You Feed Them

On one of our daily walks last week, I passed by a woman walking her retriever-mix dog who was about the same size as my pups.  We chatted for a few minutes while her dog wagged its tail and inspected my two, who were cowering in fear behind my legs.  I mentioned to her that after all the rain we have been having recently, it was nice to get out in the sunshine so my two could burn off some puppy energy.  She looked at me strangely and asked how old they were.  When I told her they were seven months old, she looked at me with equal parts horror and great amusement.  "On my" she said.  "They are going to be BIG!"  Her dog, as it turns out, was almost two years old and currently seeing eye-to-eye with Bodie and Leila.  Or, more correctly, would have been seeing eye-to-eye with them if they bothered to peek out from behind me and stopped trying to flee.  Yeah, we're still working on that.

But it got me to thinking, just how big have these two gotten, anyway?  I see them every day so they look the same to me.  When my husband comes home from a trip away for a few days, he swears they are taller than when he left.  It isn't until I go through some old photos that I hear myself saying "Look how small and cuddly they were!"  To be fair, they are still quite cuddly, but the "small" part might be debatable.  Especially when I am picking up dog poop in the back yard....ain't nothing small about that!

Before Bodie and Leila came to live with us, I bought a stuffed Bernese Mountain Dog toy online that my kids named "Bernie".  (the name tag on the toy said its name was "Trevor"....who the heck names a dog "Trevor"?)  The first thing I wanted to do was take a photo with Bodie and Leila next to Bernie for comparison's sake.  That proved to be a hilarious task in itself, trying to get two wiggly puppies to sit still long enough for me to snap a photo.  Back then they had not learned the art of the "stay put and you'll get a treat" ploy that they fall for so easily nowadays.  But back then, there was not a great difference in size between the two of them and Bernie.  Today, one has to look closely to even see Bernie at all....it's like a canine version of "Where's Waldo?"  I took their latest group shot yesterday and marvel at how tall and majestic they have become in such a short time.  Where did those roly-poly fluff balls from September go?

I'm sure that by this time next year I'll be looking at yesterday's photo and saying "Remember when they were eight months old and we thought they were sooooo big then?"

Stay tuned.....




ages in photos (in order): 10 1/2 weeks, 11 1/2 weeks, 3 1/2 months, 4 1/2 months, 6 1/2 months, 7 months, 8 months

Couch Potatoes -- The Sequel

Okay, so we have established that the dogs have claimed the couches as their own personal dog beds and the rest of us will just have to sit on the floor.  I wonder what's next with them?



Oh, great.........



Couch Potatoes

Cesar Millan would hate me.

If you ever have watched Cesar's dog training show, you'd know that he is very adamant about YOU being the "pack leader" and YOU calling the shots.  YOU tell the dog what to do, when to eat, where to go, and how to get there.  The dog should be submissive, very well trained, and do your bidding completely and without hesitation.

Cesar has obviously never been to my house.

When Jack was here, and Misha before him, we wanted to have well-trained dogs that would walk off the leash and fetch the ball and all that.  It just never seemed to end up that way.  Jack definitely marched to his own drummer and we just all sort of worked our lives around his.  Jack pooped where he wanted to in the yard, slept on the couch when he chose, and ate on his own schedule.   Granted, we never really pushed the issue so why should he change?  This lifestyle was working perfectly for him, thank you very much!

We decided that this time around, we would have well-trained dogs that did not take advantage of us the way Jack did.  They were going to grow up to be big strong dogs so we had to get the chain of command established early and no deviating from it!  We all had to be on the same page, consistent and enforce the rules.  The first order of business: no dogs on the couch!

Yeah.....how's that going?

At first it was easy, they were too short to be able to pull themselves up on the couch.  They would put their little paws up and stare at us, begging for attention and not understanding why we were so high up and they could not reach us.  It was hard, but we had to remain a united front against the invasion of puppies-on-the-couch if we were going to make this training stick.  And by training I mean us, not the dogs.   Leila, of course, saw right through our devious plan and put all her energy into learning how to jump up on that couch.  When she finally did it, she came armed with her deadly arsenal of cute-puppy-face and lo and behold, we all went "Awwww, isn't she sweet?" and she knew at that moment she had won the couch battle.  It was diabolical.

When the pups were small and weighed less than twenty pounds, it was hard to resist them scrambling up on the couch and curling into our laps.  Leila had a way of lying in such a manner that her head was leaning on your knee or in your lap and she would look up at you with those liquid brown eyes and there was no way we were going to push her off (she was right).  Sometimes both of them would get up there together and curl up and we would think it was just the cutest thing ever. We would enforce the off-the-couch training later.

At sixty-five pounds today, it ain't so cute.  It's downright intrusive!

Sure enough, the family is paying for the sins of the past as the dogs still go on the couch at every moment possible.  If one of us is currently sitting there first, that's too bad...be prepared to be shoved off.  Want to curl up with the red velvet blanket?  Sorry, dogs claimed it first!  The chain of couch command has definitely turned in their favor.  They will happily stretch out on two-thirds of the couch and leave you to squish onto half a cushion.  If you are taking up too much room than they are comfortable with, they will just lie on top of you.  Even when the grandparents came to visit they too were fair game and found themselves buried in dog bodies within moments of sitting down.  Always a crowd-pleaser when trying to balance a cup of tea while sitting at the couch.

So, I guess we need a bit more work as far as stay-off-the-cough training goes.  Yes, there have been times when one (or both) stubborn dogs refuse to move and it's ME that ends up lying on the floor using a rolled-up jacket as a pillow.  But one thing is very sure:

If Cesar Millan unexpectedly knocks at the door, I'm not answering it!

 

Mud Puppies

It's good to have friends.

Friends are there to help you have fun, blow off steam, and provide a sense of camaraderie.  In the canine world, friends help with a very important task to all dog owners: they help expend all that pent-up puppy energy that has been building up from laying around on the couch all day.

Granted, these pups don't get out too much lately to go crazy.  It's been drippy and foggy and cold and even the dogs don't feel like hanging out in the yard a great deal.  Sure, we go for daily walks around the creek trail but those are more structured and are my half-hearted attempt to teach them the meaning of the word "heel" (the meaning of which is either not recognized by them or completely ignored on purpose.  I'm beginning to think it's the latter.)  So after what seemed like the 19th or 20th day of having them chase each other around the kitchen and family room (which includes jumping on the couch and ricocheting feet-first off the wall in a dog version of the X-Games) I had pretty much had it.  The sun had made a feeble attempt to peek out through the clouds and it hadn't rained in over a week so it was time to let these guys burn some energy somewhere other than all over my furniture.

Off to the Dog Park!!!

Not being the most social of dogs just yet when it comes to their own kind, they have not gone to the dog park before, as I was afraid of their reaction to the rather exuberant dogs that I have seen playing there in the past.  But at some point in time they are going to have to meet and greet other dogs and learn the proper social etiquette involved.  Their reaction to dogs we meet on our daily walks range from general indifference to abject terror.  Bodie is fast on his way to being a mama's-boy dog (case in point when he cried and ran to me terrified, tail between legs, because he had a "dingleberry" stuck to his backside) and Leila, as always, is the princess of the castle and we are all here merely to do her bidding.   A little friend-time with other four-leggers (with the exception of the family cat who hates everyone) would probably be welcome.

So we bundled up the kids and leashed up the dogs and took off for the nearby dog park.  Along the way I was thinking of what I should do if bigger dogs scare them or if smaller dogs are scared by them.  Should I take off the leashes right away or let them get acclimated first?  What if they both go for a ball at the same time as another dog and a fight ensues?  I swear, you'd think I was dropping my kids off at daycare the way I was over-thinking this.  We got to the dog park gate and I realized my worries were in vain anyway.

The place was empty.

Well hell, this defeats the purpose, now doesn't it!  I wondered why, on this first sunny day we have had in awhile, why other dog owners weren't eager to get out here and run their also-pent-up dogs while they had the chance.  I'm sure my kitchen and family room weren't the only rooms in town waving the white flag.  Even though this dog park is small, I always see dogs in various numbers frolicking about when I drive past.  We go in anyway, figuring that my two can run around freely at will, usually running from or chasing after my 7-year son who is no stranger in the pent-up energy department.  We close the double gates, unhook the leashes, and only then do I notice why there are no other dogs in the dog park today.

The center of the park is one gigantic muddy mosh pit.

I notice this shiny brown mass immediately after the dogs have both run merrily through it and then jumped up on my son, leaving four brown paw prints on the legs of his grey sweatpants.  Wow, dogs with muddy feet AND laundry to do when we get home!  Who's idea was this, anyway?  Oh well, we're here, dogs and kids are running around, I'm snapping photos, and we are trying to make the best of the fact that at least it's not raining.  Moments later, Bodie and Leila bound up to the gate where a woman, her daughter and black labrador retriever have stopped by to visit the park.  Finally, someone else with a dog with cabin fever!  To my surprise, Bodie and Leila are overjoyed to see this new friend and dance around her, tails wagging and happy barks echoing, at Sophie the black lab who has come to play.

Sophie could have cared less.

When my two get their "silly" on, they are hard to ignore.  Sophie managed to do this with little to no effort at all, focusing her attention the woman who was about to toss a tennis ball across the grass.  Sophie took off after the ball, and Bodie and Leila took off after Sophie, not sure of why she was running but hey, she's running!  We should too!  My son took a cue from the obedient lab who brought the ball back and dropped it, ready for another go, and tossed a ball for Bodie to retrieve as well.  He hurled it as far as he could and Bodie just stared in its general direction.  You could almost hear the crickets.  Exasperated, my son jogged off to retrieve the ball, only to be passed up by Sophie running after her own ball, with her two shaggy Bernese shadows in tow.  This continued on for the duration of our stay there, with my two running back and forth for no apparent reason, and Sophie completely oblivious to their existence.  The only one in our family who seems to have gotten the hang of playing fetch is apparently my son.  But hey, they are all running around, having a blast, and most importantly, burning off the cobwebs from the past house-bound days.

When it came time for Sophie to leave, Bodie and Leila walked her to the gate and appeared to be saying their good-byes.  I was glad they had a good time with another dog, even if that other dog did not give them the time of day.  I had almost forgotten about the blackened muddy dog-feet and filthy wet children I would have to contend with when I got home.  Oh well, they all needed a bath anyway, kids included, so we ended our dog park run with a lather-rinse-repeat on the driveway for the pups, so I could actually see their feet were white again!  After a good toweling off and "silly five minutes" run pell-mell through the house, both dogs crashed on the family room carpet and fell into a restful snooze, complete with snoring.  It was a long way to go in order to get a few minutes of peace in the house, but I'll take what I can get!

If you listen really closely, you can hear the kitchen and family room sighing with relief.