Hostel

It's coming up on time to say goodbye to the original three kittens. They go next week to get fixed and have a second round of shots. Then after a couple of recovery days, they'll go over to PetSmart where I'm reasonably sure they'll be adopted by wonderful families who for whatever reason, decided they need companionship in the form of a cat. I'm sure most will get new names that suit their owners and my coffee table will go back to looking like it used to. Boring, but functional. Stella will probably think something's gone awry but like Domino, she'll adjust.

Speaking of Stella, we have a temporary house guest whose home was wrecked by a fallen tree. Stella has pretty much disowned me (except at meal times - of course) in favor of the new guy. She sits up on the bed with him and when I call her she just looks at me as if to say "Who are you again?" There's a word for that but I won't say it.

Stella and Walter, living it up on my futon.

The three of us went down to the fairgrounds today and there was a woman walking her dog there that I'd met a couple of years ago. A professional dog owner, she walks her dogs regularly without leashes. I let Stella off the leash too since it's all fenced in down there anyway and she immediately went to the creek. We've never been off leash at a creek before so you can imagine what came next.

Wallowing. Head-completely-under-muddy water, digging up sticks, sort of wallowing, followed by bounding through waist high grass and weeds and more wallowing. In between the two was a fair amount of beaming on Stella's part. I think her favorite thing is being off leash. When we finally got back to the car (and this was after fifteen minutes at most) she was completely soaked with mud and grass, cockleburs, and God knows what. Throw in some chiggers and a tick or two and you get the idea.

Our friends from the cemetery walk (and I've been meaning to say this for a few weeks now and just haven't thought of it) - were given a lecture about the leash laws a couple of times by a bored park policeman. The property is enclosed by a stone fence except for two very long driveways. Anyway, he caught up with them again recently during their early morning ritual whereupon he proceeded to write them four separate tickets at $75. apiece. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Yeah, I know, it's the law and it's a very effective law in most instances. I think there should be some flexibility though. Maybe a workshop that teaches police officers to use some rational discretion, some common-sense interpretation, particularly when it comes to that chaotic underworld of outlaw dog walkers.

Love and Moon PIes

I found this photo attached to an old e-mail. The subject line said: "Uh...I got a dog".

There should've been a big "D" right before that "Uh" part. Check out Baby Giraffe there in his glory days.


Warning: What follows is icky sweet, like deep-fried Moon Pies. I'd offer you a glass of milk if I could.

Dear Stella:

I love it when you lie upside down and your lips fall open.

I love that you can fall asleep while someone is grinding your toenails off.

I love it when we pass by Big Mean Dog's house and you don't bark back.

I love it when you sit at the crosswalk and then when all the cars stop, you take the leash in your teeth and try to trot me across the street.

I love it when I stop the car and you step up onto the console long enough to lean your head against my head.

You make it easy to forget that mouthful-of-shit feeling I get sometimes.

I love that when we go out in the morning, you hesitate at the door to let the cat go first and I love how when she rubs against your legs it makes you shiver a little bit.

I love the look on your face when we're out walking and I pull out your tug toy.

I love that four days a week we come home soaking wet or covered in mud or both.

I love how you race from side to side at the creek - right before you run out in the water. It's like you're building up your nerve.

I love that metaphorically speaking, I do exactly the same thing.

I love knowing that when the Devil is asleep, your people are my people.

I had a dream we lived in Mexico. Remind me to get a Tetanus shot before we go.

Ego bruises v.2.0

I've got good news and I've got bad news.

The bad news is Stella failed the CGC test. She did fine on everything until it came time to walk past the lovely and talented, Glory (isn't that a great name for a dog?) I can't say it was a subtle thing either. It was like being carried on the horseshoe end of a sixty-pound magnet. No amount of sweet talking would sway her. She was given the benefit of a doubt. Excitement overwhelmed her as it almost always does. I had planned on us having a big celebration afterward but instead I crafted a big ol'Miss America-type sash when we got home. It says: LOSER. (I'm wearing it right now.)

Not to worry though, we can take the test again in ten weeks. Meanwhile, we're going to watch this training video (lifted from Terrierman) once a day for inspiration.



On to the good news. And it is good. The day before we took the test, Stella and I met with my friend Christine who is a dog person if there ever was one. She still laughs at the fact that I - a cat person for twenty-five years would ever have a dog, let alone the handful of dog I ended up with. We tagged along on a walk that she regularly does with two of her four dogs: Arthur, a Weimeraner, just a few months older than Stella and Fiona Tina, a senior cancer-surviving Shepherd mix. Not only did Stella get to make two new actual friends but she got to do the walk without a leash. This very nearly blew her mind. Mine too. The only time she's been unleashed in her soon-to-be two years, we've been at the dog park or at the baseball field. Arthur fetched a tennis ball most of the way and Stella fetched Arthur most of the way. As you might expect, this led to much Snoopy dancing and an overall feeling of giddiness on her part. She seemed more contented than usual for the rest of the day.

This morning she and I dropped Barney's clothes off at the Green Street Church of Christ. They have a closet there for people who are living on the street and/or those who are needy. After that we went to a local cemetery and tried the off-leash thing again only this time it was just the two of us. It was also fun but I'm sure Stella missed the other two dogs. (Tip: cemeteries almost always have borders or even fields of undeveloped land; they also generally have paved roads and trash cans at regular intervals) We missed this beautiful weather walking last year. The trees around town bloomed big this time around and it seems they all got going at the same time instead of their usual stagger. I hope Jack Frost has been successfully run out of town.

Note to self:

Some things to remember about this past weekend

1. First off, let me just say in my defense: it is impossible to pass a dog with a wig in your hand and NOT try the wig on the dog. If one should decide to photograph the dog however, it is imperative that laughter be kept to a minimum. Trust me, there will be plenty of time to laugh later. (same goes for people, btw)

2. One of Stella's best things is walking through a crowd. The Lawn and Garden Show was at the fairgrounds last weekend so we went over and followed the parade of visitors through the parking lots for fun. We also navigated the long lines of people who were waiting to buy tickets. She did great as always and we celebrated our success by running like mad women back behind the race track.

3. On sunny Saturdays, apparently it's fun to go over to (local coffee house) Fido where you can sit outside with your pup and enjoy a coffee. All the tables were taken so we didn't sit but according to the body language of one guy, we'll call him Stinkeye, Pit bull-type dogs (I'm being funny there, I love that expression, what is a "pit bull-type" dog?) may not be all that welcome anyway, so we kept moving. Stella did a little low key rubber-necking and I didn't mind. We probably walked a mile through Hillsboro Village, well past Vanderbilt and back again.

4. Then on to school where she had words with a shepherd mix who got in her personal space. Both dogs and owners recovered nicely.

5. Stella has almost no separation issues. At class we're up to two minutes. Out in the world, we're up to about fifteen minutes. I have more anxiety than she does when we're apart.

6. Beware of strange dogs galloping after you on suburban streets. Later, we went for a walk around the block and a good sized (maybe 75lb.) dog came running out from between two houses. It climbed all over Stella and then went from being over-excited to aggressive in the blink of an eye. It tried to bite her twice. I stepped between them before Stella could react and made the dog's options very clear. It went trotting off. Five houses down, a beautiful little French Bulldog came blasting out of yet another yard. It didn't try to start a fight though (thank God) and its owner retrieved it immediately.

7. If I haven't said it lately, Latina moms are way cool. We got out of the car at the ball park on Sunday and from a distance I noticed a Mexican family moving in our direction. There were two women and five little children of various ages. I moved Stella aside and put her into a sit. I was surprised to see that they didn't plan to go around us, they planned to stop and pet Stella. Naturally, they had a two year old with them who was terrified of dogs and they hoped to use Stella in the same way I hoped to use their other kids. As luck would have it, I had a pocketful of liver treats so it was win-win. We hung out with them for fifteen or twenty minutes and Stella ended up charming the frightened kid and getting more than one belly rub out of the deal. She walked away a different dog. I'm not saying it was permanent but she had a sweet look in her eye that told me she felt really good about it all. We celebrated with a swim in the creek.


Speaking of wigs...

The friendly strangers

Yesterday, the sun finally came out and it was such a relief. After a few quirks in our schedule, I decided to take Stella over to Radnor Lake. Walking there hasn't been a great experience in the past although it's beautiful, there are lots of deer and other critters and I suspect that the smells are overwhelming to a young dog. Stella has a way of forgetting everything she ever knew about manners and walking in general when we go there. It's one of a few situations where I am nothing more to her than an anchor.

Yesterday was a little different, with one exception. We've been working on the portion of the CGC test where we greet a friendly stranger. While we've been doing this unsuccessfully for some time, often our difficulties come when the stranger is too friendly. You wouldn't think that would be a problem but it sends Stella to the moon. I haven't been able to direct this interaction as much as I'd like to since I know these are really nice people who just want to pet the dog. I refuse to start off by lecturing them about their approach. Not only that, I've learned these last months that the world is filled with exuberant baby-talking dog lovers and that's never going to change. People coo at her from open car windows until her butt starts wagging and she just about pees herself. I'm not complaining at all, really - there are worse things.

Anyway, it always seems to end with her trying her best to decorate them with her muddy paw prints. This scene repeated itself yesterday. I said "sit". She ignored me completely. I said "sit" again, she didn't. I showed her a piece of a hot dog I had in my hand and said "sit". Nothing. She just wanted to meet the new person who was busy telling her how beautiful she was. Beyond that one incident, I have to say she was much improved over last time we came here. There were dogs and bicycles and photographers (seemingly) hiding in the woods. The only thing she got locked onto was a family of peacocks and who could blame her for that? I would've taken a photo except that um... I was attached to a big nutball dog.

Devil Woman (kidding)

My living room looks like the dog daycare exploded in it only without all the little tote boxes and the barking. There are leashes, umbrellas and plastic bags, boots, hats, scarves, gloves, towels, tug toys, clickers and all manner of canine bullshit scattered all over the room. You'd think I had three or four dogs. I've only just begun to appreciate the idea of a coat rack but unfortunately there's no place to put one.

Since I'm on the topic of paraphernalia, here is my question for all you dog trainer types out there: Where do you keep your third hand anyway? I mean, I have the leash; I have the clicker and the treat and maybe even an umbrella. At some point, I end up with a big bag of dog poop which I carry along like it's my party favor. If someone honks or says hello, invariably that's the hand I (accidentally) wave with - the one with the loaded bag. I have to steer the dog and keep her focused. I have to watch where we're going and maneuver us past racing, yes I said racing, school buses and FedEx trucks. Let's don't forget that I must also stay relaxed and meditative about the whole thing lest she parlay that teenage nutty streak of hers into a game of "You can't catch me even on a four foot leash." Constantly, I hear people say the dog knows what I'm thinking. I don't mean to contradict this very popular canine (psychic) theory but if the dog knew what I was thinking, there would be no reason for her to lunge at a little kid on a bicycle more than one time. "Jeez, mom's actually thinking about murdering me - maybe I better behave myself."

Check out this (sweet) Pedigree video at Terrierman's Daily Dose

Walking the Walk

Last Friday, Stella and I went walking at a cemetery near the house. We go pretty often because it's close to home and there's a place in the back corner where the fence runs out where you can slide down a retaining wall and end up in the parking lot of PetSmart. It's kind of like dog walking Nirvana. We don't usually buy much when we're there but we do cruise all the aisles and publicly curse the fact that there's never so much as a single piece of dog food on the floor. That day, just by chance I bought some dehydrated beef liver (for class on Saturday, she's doing really well at home and pretty well at class).

We get back to the cemetery and I put Stella on the long leash so we could play ball in a little empty space at the back. We try to be dignified at the cemetery so as not to fire up any grieving family members. Not long after that I hear a dog barking. In the distance I saw what looked to be a good sized dog challenging us from a distance amid the flower arrangements. That's odd I thought. I'd never seen a dog loose in the cemetery before. I wondered if it was lost or just visiting. Then something very strange happened. The one barking dog turned into five dogs. Biggie-sized. All of them scattered about in the corner, all now standing watching us; ready to protect their turf. The first thing I did was open the bag of liver. Unfortunately the camera was at home. I can only describe it as something that might have been in a Stephen King movie.

Stella saw them but didn't seem terribly excited. Once I got her safely in the car I went over and told some gravediggers about the dogs. They looked at me with the same level of enthusiasm that every gravedigger I ever met seems to have. On the way out we drove past the dogs one more time just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating and check them out up close. Again, they all stood up on cue and the five of them got her attention this time.
The above shot is from a different walk in that same cemetery. It's the grave site of Marty Robbins and his wife. Stella and I hunted for it off and on for five months before I finally walked into the office and asked them where it was. The young man I asked - had never heard of Marty Robbins and seeing as I didn't know his real name is Martin Robinson, they had to do a little hunting too. We finally found it but not before Stella launched off barking at a concrete Jesus.

Backtalk

Today was take your dog to work day. It's really too bad I only had "house" work to do instead of say.. a load of head shots of bankers or a parade to shoot, something, of course, Stella is still pretty much housebound so she couldn't have gone very far anyway. I think I mentioned that we went to Office Max this week. That was a big thrill for her. I can't say it's ever been that exciting for me but whatever works, I suppose. She had a great time the entire six minutes we stayed and visibly tried to restrain herself from getting too excited. Mostly, I took her along so she'd know that her oh-so-active social life hadn't collapsed entirely. July 28 is now the target date for her release. Personally, I'm dying to take her swimming but resolute about following her doctors orders. Okay except we did walk to the corner today instead of just staying in the yard. My poor front yard looks like a urine-stained, mole-infested mine field - but I digress.

Her leg seems to be healing beautifully and what's more I think she turned a little corner in the behavior department this week. Not sure if I can describe it although the dog lovers will understand perfectly, it's like our understanding of each other has raised to a new level. It isn't huge but certainly noticeable and welcome. She still sasses me like a teenager when I tell her to do stuff but at least I know she's engaged. Does your dog/or cat ever sass you?



This photo (she was giving me lip even then) was taken back in December on Mill Creek at one of Nashville's many outstanding greenways.

Hey one more (totally cool) thing that happened this week, in case anyone missed it in the feed was that Michael Winslow followed us on Twitter. Well, he followed Stella. She's got more followers than I ever will. You can find him at this address.