Happy daze

Stella had  her fourth birthday last Friday. What with moving and all, we didn't make it to a carnival this year to take her picture. A friend had given me this crazy stuffed heart though (shaped like a beating heart eek- not our typical romanticized version) so that, and a whole can of wet dog food was her present. I figured she'd chew the thing to smithereens but so far she's just been toting it around the house with the occasional blindside attack. I am planning on getting her a new leather collar too as I think her latest nylon version may sacrifice comfort for design. She's pretty funky all on her own and really shouldn't have to be bothered with itchy fashion accessories. That goes for all of us I suppose.

Diesel update

Here is a great update from Diesel's new mom Debbie (who we're officially crazy about): 

Diesel and Maggie are good friends now – Maggie’s still the boss but they do play together.  He’s used to the routine now, he goes out in the morning and stays out until night unless the weather is bad…Maggie is scared of lightning and thunder so I always bring her in and it’s not fair to leave him outside so he comes in also.  He’s very good about going to his bed and laying down when he’s in the house although sometimes he gets very excited and runs around like a goofball. [ed. note: I find this incomprehensible.]

I got Diesel a toy that he’s absolutely gaga over – it’s just a squeaky ball wrapped in canvas with several canvas tails so you can play tug of war.  He’s so obsessive about it and it just cracks me up when he squeaks it – he’s loves it.  I have discovered that he keeps it safe by burying it then digging it back up so it’s always muddy and nasty but he will carry it around for hours and hours.

He’s laying out on the deck in the sun right now next to Maggie.  He won’t go near the horses and when I let them in the front yard, he stays under the carport and watches to make sure they don’t come anywhere near him (they couldn’t really care less about where he is anyway).  I’ll be interested to see how he handles the farrier when he comes to do my horses because I bring them under the carport for the farrier so Diesel’s  safe place will be penetrated by those evil horses – what will he do?  So far, he’s a pretty happy guy.

I wonder if you trained Diesel to run on a treadmill.  The first nasty day that he was here and I couldn’t play ball with him to spill some of his energy – I put him on the treadmill and he immediately knew what to do.  It’s wonderful because now if he’s too full of himself and I don’t have the time or inclination to go outside and work it out of him, I just stick him on the treadmill and let him go for a mile or more and then he’s just fine.

He’s a good dog and I’m glad to have him.

How does it feel to only have one dog to contend with? I bet you find you have a lot of extra time on your hands and a lot calmer life.

First, thanks to Debbie for the update. We really appreciate it. Second, as I told her in a return e-mail, I did (in a fit of exhaustion) teach Diesel to run on the treadmill. I hadn't mentioned it here until this very minute because I wanted a good video of it which necessitated moving furniture and setting up a light, but I ran out of time over the holidays. It was a lot of fun and to be honest, I didn't have to do that much teaching. I just had to figure out the logistics of it and say "good boy" a few times and he understood. I held the leash and pretended to walk or jog along next to him.  He did it without second guessing me, without an explanation and with zero experience. It was beautiful. 

Stella, on the other hand..did not master the treadmill. Stella analyzes everything and she thinks way too much. She'll walk up onto anything I ask her to but you let the floor start moving and Stella is going to pick up her marbles and go straight home.

Lastly, life is definitely more calm with just one dog. Especially since the two of them used to play the canine version of Smackdown in my office twice a day. Initially, I encouraged this behavior - in order to teach them  to "stop" on command but they burned some good energy that way too and never once broke anything or turned over a piece of furniture - which I still find amazing. 

The latest haul

Stella will steal the dog toys right off your living room floor. She shoplifts at Pet Smart too if I don't keep an eye on her. Rawhide here, stuffed duck there. I shot a dog birthday party the other day. It was just this side of professional suicide but fun nonetheless. Stella wasn't invited but I stole her a bakery bone.

Hm. Maybe she got that shoplifting thing from me. Anyway, have a great Thursday. I'm off to liberate a dog. Film at eleven.

Catnip Junkie

Stella has a friend, a cat I call Domino. Domino has been squatting at our house for the last few weeks. Her owner apparently decided she was going to be an "outside" cat from now on and Domino had a different idea. The only problem with this arrangement and it really isn't that much of a problem, is that Domino is a catnip junkie. She's laid claim to a sock filled with catnip and she carries it around the house with her and stays high most of the time. She places it lovingly on the floor and then proceeds to roll around on it like cats do, presumably coating her fur with it's magnificent, opiate perfume. The funny thing is, she's got Stella doing it too. Now, obviously it doesn't have the same effect on Stella and I'd venture a guess that Stella wonders if she isn't missing something. Occasionally I'll walk into a room and Stella will have carried off the sock herself and is now lying with it between her feet studying it. She'll look at it for a long time and then bite it. just once, and study it some more. So far, nothing. Good thing too. I'd hate to have to send them both to rehab.

*Note: Anyone who managed to make it through that last post deserves a calendar ;-)

Overcoat

Here's a link to the coat(s) for those of you who may be interested. They're simple to order, fit beautifully and arrive within minutes (it seems).

Dog story of the day involves the Chuckit! ball launcher wherein we're on the baseball field (featured a couple of posts back) and Stella is fetching her brains out. She comes tearing back to me drops the ball, snatches the BAll LAUNCHER out of my hand and takes off. By the time she got back around to me I was laughing so hard she started high-stepping with it like some canine majorette. I didn't get a picture this time but they have a monthly photo contest over there. Not positive but I think we can win it.

I have to mention a couple of good blogs here that I've been (unsuccessfully) trying to comment on for weeks now. I've contacted a number of people but there are two that I haven't been able to reach and I'm hoping they'll check-in via the e-mail address in my profile. One is Janet at My Semi-Charmed Life and the other is Carey at One Laguna Life. I'm not typically a very prolific commenter but cut me off and I'll come up with all sorts of things to say. One of these women is looking for some new inspirational blogs to check out. My number one pick would have to be Switched at Birth. For more, I'd just set about pilfering her link list if it were me, not that I've ever done that...enjoy.

Running Bases

She usually stays out of the infield but every once in a while, she loses control I guess, her brain goes haywire and she passes the frisbee on the ground and just heads for the bases. She got a Chuck-it ball launcher (well I guess we both got it) for Christmas. It's a huge hit.

She's also managed to overcome her fear of skateboards over the last month or so. I actually haven't tested her with other skateboards (maybe it's rogue teenage boys she's afraid of) but she's no longer afraid of the one we're currently using as a rickshaw. There's a video in the works, we'll keep you posted.

Anniversary Party

Wednesday was mine and Stella's 2 year anniversary. I wouldn't change anything really except maybe those two knee surgeries which you'll see in a minute, seem to have worked. We haven't been to the fair this year at all. The rides aren't even on the midway - they're up on the hill which to me, is interesting but sad. After more than a century, there won't be a state fair next year so we made an executive decision to boycott. Almost all of our old time friends are gone anyway. Don't worry, we're still keeping our eyes open for carny dogs, human and canine.

Meanwhile - I made this goofy video of Stella playing fetch; or at least her version of it. You'll have to forgive me as I'm working with a twenty-five dollar camera and my assistants rarely cooperate; not to mention the fact that it's my first ever attempt at video editing. At one point I sped the whole thing up by accident and Stella looked like the Roadrunner. I'm embarrassed to say how long it took me to undo it.



P.S. I know some of you out there have been looking for a way to artfully disguise your vicious baby-snatching dogs. Well, thanks to SkateTruck, we've found the solution.

Pool Party

So, the baby pool was a huge hit. I'm not sure the pictures convey it but Stella had a lot of fun playing in it and I only had to remove her teeth from the puffy, blow-up rings twice. I guess it was an idle threat. We all know if she'd really been biting it that thing would be flat right now.
A few weeks back wewent to an event called Dog Day in May and a guy from one of the local big pet stores gave us a bag of party favors. He put five frisbees in it, which I (blindly) thought was excessive. I flew the first one - the very first one - and by the time Stella got back to me with it, it was destroyed. There were like nine holes in it and it was permanently warped; a goner. Okay Stella. We get it. She needs industrial toys.

Moving on to an entirely different topic, I continue to be amazed at the number of kids who approach us and ask me if they can pet Stella. Granted, she does get out a lot and some kids don't have the chance to interact with dogs but I don't think I'd let my own child run up to a strange dog. A few posts back I wrote that she's still spooked by kids but now I'm thinking it might just be certain kids and the way they approach her. If I were to be honest, I'd have to say that my response usually feeds it. Just minutes after one of her latest kid-friendly bursts of crazy energy - we stopped at one of the neighbor's houses where there's a three year old girl with two Boxers. This child sat on the deck and ignored Stella which I'm happy to report took Stella completely by surprise. It was the exact right thing to do. I was thirty feet away.

So, Friday night when a seven(ish) year old girl at the ballpark, ran over and asked me if she could pet my dog I agreed but asked her to stand still and only look at me for a minute. She got this serious expression on her face and asked (more specifically now) if Stella would bite her.

"No, never" I said, but she might jump at you because she's a dingy girl who gets excited if you're excited. This was language that apparently she could understand. A minute later she was petting Stella and reciting the same speech to her three siblings all of whom were standing around now petting her and telling me about their dog - Leo. When we walked away Stella smiled at me and had a little skip in her step that wasn't there before.

Snacks & Kisses

She barks in her sleep.
Likes to eat that grass pâté the yard guy leaves behind.
After a particularly good walk I bought her a rubber duck (like the ones they have at the carnival).

She chewed its head off.
Took three minutes.

A couple of weeks ago a little girl we'd never met, four years old, grabbed her by her muzzle with both hands and planted a big ol' kiss right on her mouth.

Me and the woman with the child nearly fainted on that one.

We went to a craft fair last weekend.
It was very crowded with people and dogs.
There was a couple walking behind us and the man started talking
about how he didn't trust "those" dogs.
They were "violent" he said, and "dangerous".

He rambled on as if I couldn't hear him.

We pulled over to the side long enough to let them step ahead of us
and spent the next few minutes tailgating them.

Just for fun I gave Stella the same speech about middle-aged men in khaki pants.

The Babysitter

Stella won a rope bone last fall for being the most social dog in her puppy class. It's long gone but one of the big chain stores sent us a coupon for her birthday and she got to get a replacement. I wasn't sure what to choose and then as we were walking down the aisle she just reached out and took it off the hook herself. I have to watch her when we go in those places because she does that with bully sticks also. And rawhide chews. And squeak balls.. I always read her that sign on the door before we go in too. You know the one that says: We welcome your well-behaved pet. One of these days we'll show up and they'll have added a line that reads: Please leave your delinquent, shoplifting pit bull at home.

Pit bull, viciously attacked by purple wiener dog

Thanks so much to those who responded (not only with photos of their carny/road dogs but also with directions on how to get there to meet them in person). I managed to make a little collection in the last couple of days as a result. The rest of you (if you're out there) get busy and send us a good picture. There's a site I saw recently where people can send pictures of what's left of their annihilated dog toys too. It was pretty hysterical and of course, I forgot to save the link but I'll keep looking.

I do have one bit of bad news where Stella's surgery is concerned and that is that a few days ago, she managed to blow out her other knee. When she was diagnosed with luxating patellas, I was told by my vet that she had it in both knees. The right one was the more severe (grade3 of 4). In small dogs, both knees can be operated on at the same time but for big dogs it isn't a good idea because of their weight. Now that she's favored her left leg for the last five weeks, the strain has caused her originally grade 1 condition in that knee, to progress to a grade 2, leaving the kneecap to slip each time she fully extends her back leg, which is - regularly. This probably means another surgery and another eight weeks of rehab. Her surgeon said: "You must tie this dog to the coffee table and not let her walk for the next three weeks."

I have no idea what insurance costs for a dog but I'm sorry I didn't sign her up for some last September. Oh, wait - I haven't done any research on it but I bet you can't buy insurance for a semi-stray pit bull. Especially not if they've been attacked by stuffed purple wiener dogs.

On the more positive side, I put an ad on craigslist.org a couple of weeks ago, asking for the use of someone's swimming pool (for her impending physical therapy) and some nice person answered it with an invitation. She said she has another dog that comes over too, a Lab that had spinal meningitis last year, which caused him to lose the use of his back legs. Swimming two or three times a week reversed it.

Baby Giraffe

I brought Stella home from the fair on tear down day. Often, it's a Monday, the day after the midway closes when all the rides are being packed away. It follows tear down night. Any other year, I would've stayed all day taking pictures, but I had very suddenly become the owner of a puppy. I say very suddenly - that's misleading- I asked Billy Winn, nine days earlier if I could have her, betting he'd say no, which he did. Then, in a combined moment of clarity and good will, Billy and his girl had a meeting and decided to adopt her out. So late Sunday afternoon, I became the new proud owner of the bouncing baby dog. Three months old. Pit Bull. Never been on a walk. Or in a house. Did however, spend the last three months riding around the country, hanging behind a midway, listening to Nickleback and Emanem.

In preparation for this adoption I went home at 4 in the morning and picked up everything in the house that I thought would interest a puppy, magazines, camera gear, power cords, the new cowboy boots, all put away some place out of reach. During that time I went from trying to talk myself out of taking the puppy to being totally overjoyed about actually having a puppy. It was a combination of fear and sleep deprivation but at no time did I stop picking things up and putting them away. Two hours later, I was back at the fairgrounds in time to shoot the sunrise. At eleven-thirty that afternoon, I got the nod from Billy to take the dog. He was getting ready to move the truck she'd been tied to for the last twelve days and we agreed that at that point, she'd be mine.

She (all twelve pounds of her) drug me across the midway and I steered her in the direction of the car. There's a whole story about the first time I walked this dog, nine and a half hours earlier. I'll just say here, that she has a passion for funnel cake and leave it at that. On this, our last goodbye to the Tennessee State Fair, I was headed to the car and she was headed to the funnel cake. It's safe to say, there's more than a little bit of it, on the ground after ten days of the Tennessee State Fair. It was kind of like being tied to the back of a train.

Once we made it to the car, her demeanor changed. This would be the only time she would be allowed to sit in my lap in the car and for part of the ride, she did exactly that. The last half of our journey would see her sitting quietly in the passenger's seat watching me intently for any sign of what was coming next.

Don't worry, I blindly assured her. Everything's going to be fine.

We went straight to the pet supermarket, just to drive the point home.

Without hesitating, she walked through the automatic doors. I immediately picked her up and set her in the basket of the nearest cart. She studied me, uncertain as we rolled down the first aisle and let loose a heavy sigh. Her world had changed dramatically in the last forty minutes. Neither of us had slept for two days and it was hard to say which would be the first to collapse.

Then I picked up Baby Giraffe, gave him a squeak and tossed him into the cart with her.

Joyous revelation is the only way I can describe it now. The happy dance. I'm surprised she didn't pee herself. It was the moment she understood that I wasn't just some dangerous kidnapper. By the time we left there, she was sitting in the cart in a new dog bed, schmoozing extra milk bones off the cashiers.

Baby Giraffe became the icon of happiness for Stella. This photo was taken the day we retired him and today, this many months later, if I want her full attention, literally all I have to do is say the words: Baby Giraffe and for a minute anyway - she's mine.