My dad (he'll turn 90 in June) still says it. "Well dog my cats" is his cleaner version of "son of a bitch!" Lately, I have been treated to a variety of illustrations of the phrase. Grace dogs my cats whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Lucia, as I have mentioned, likes the chase games. She will deliberately hang her tail off the edge of whatever she is sitting on and twitch it to entice Grace to chase her. On the other hand, sometimes she just wants to curl up in a lap and sleep. If Grace sees that happening, she just can't seem to resist the temptation to jump up and poke Lucia with that busy nose bone of hers.
Perfesser Remus J. Lupin, however, has no tolerance at all for puppy shenanigans. He is willing to come downstairs now, but only if he has a pretty good chance of avoiding the stupid dog. The dogging of this cat evokes hissing, growling and vicious swipes with lethal claws - so far not a deterrent, but more of an enticement.
Out and about, Grace is always on the lookout for cats to dog, and the neighborhood does not disappoint. Just today we were walking through a part of the world I call "cat alley" where dozens of felines seem to live. We came upon a yard with six cats on the porch. Grace practically yanked my arm out of its socket lunging at them. A big calico hopped down, back arched, prancing sideways, hissing and growling. No deterrent. I had to drag her with all my strength to keep her from being ripped to shreds. Other times she has poked that nose into holes in lattice under houses and been repulsed, so far without injury.
I keep thinking she's going to learn to leave the kitties alone, but my hope is waning.
All Clean!
Home From The Groomer
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
A Closer (Or Farther) Walk With Grace
Grace is a yellow lab and bassett hound hybrid. As such, she loves water and possesses a powerful sniffer. Her legs are about ten inches long, which gives her a powerful four-wheel-drive pull on the leash. For some reason, she loves to climb steep hills, of which there are many in Meadville. She loves to romp in deep ivy, a common ground cover on the steep hills of Meadville. And she loves snow, the deeper the better. She is a Meadville dog, no doubt.
The instant we step out the door, that nose is to the ground, sniffing sniffing sniffing. She looks up frequently, watching for humans, which she loves, dogs, which she wants to play with, and plastic bottles, the best dog toys on earth.
At the end of our front walk, she makes the call. Which way are we going? I let her nose lead us about fifty percent of the time. If it were up to her and her nose, we would be exploring for many hours at a time, then napping, then exploring more. Unfortunately, I have other priorities. But I can see why she got picked up by animal control last summer. She got out of her previous home and started exploring, ranging far and wide, and when the dog catcher got out of his truck, she ran right up to him and started licking his face. Anyway, my primary job once we set out, is to get us back home or to the church in time for whatever the next priority is. She is never ready to come home. So, we're at the sidewalk and she turns left. She'll probably want to keep going across Morgan on Chestnut Street. I steer her left, down Morgan. This can take us on a fairly short loop around the streets just north of Chestnut - Maple and Walnut. Or we can continue ahead down the stairway into Shadybrook Park with a stream, a small pond and a swampy area. Very popular. From there we can continue in the same direction to North Street or we can scale the very high very steep very popular hill and down the other side into MASH (Meadville Area Senior High) property, where there is a big pond, a big swampy area, and a stream. If we're going for the hour and a half knockout punch (she'll sleep away the rest of the day) we can go over to the recreation complex. All of these places are prolific providers of plastic bottles, the best dog toys on earth.
After dark, she'll usually start us out by turning left in front of the house, taking us up the hill to Elizabeth Park, across to Alden Place - former home of Meadville Theological School - with a big parking lot on the east side, and a big field on the west. Especially in deep snow, she loves the field, where she can poke that face down and run for ten or twenty feet at a time without coming up for air. I call it "face plowing." Her snow-covered face comes up, looks around, then pokes back down for another long furrow. We can do ten or fifteen minutes there if we have the time.
When I wheedle, cajole and pull with all of my strength to turn her toward home, she begins to misbehave, jumping up, biting and tugging the leash, biting my boots and humping my leg. But I prevail, dragging her home to be dried off and settled down for a nap - hopefully a long one.
I could use one of those myself.
The instant we step out the door, that nose is to the ground, sniffing sniffing sniffing. She looks up frequently, watching for humans, which she loves, dogs, which she wants to play with, and plastic bottles, the best dog toys on earth.
At the end of our front walk, she makes the call. Which way are we going? I let her nose lead us about fifty percent of the time. If it were up to her and her nose, we would be exploring for many hours at a time, then napping, then exploring more. Unfortunately, I have other priorities. But I can see why she got picked up by animal control last summer. She got out of her previous home and started exploring, ranging far and wide, and when the dog catcher got out of his truck, she ran right up to him and started licking his face. Anyway, my primary job once we set out, is to get us back home or to the church in time for whatever the next priority is. She is never ready to come home. So, we're at the sidewalk and she turns left. She'll probably want to keep going across Morgan on Chestnut Street. I steer her left, down Morgan. This can take us on a fairly short loop around the streets just north of Chestnut - Maple and Walnut. Or we can continue ahead down the stairway into Shadybrook Park with a stream, a small pond and a swampy area. Very popular. From there we can continue in the same direction to North Street or we can scale the very high very steep very popular hill and down the other side into MASH (Meadville Area Senior High) property, where there is a big pond, a big swampy area, and a stream. If we're going for the hour and a half knockout punch (she'll sleep away the rest of the day) we can go over to the recreation complex. All of these places are prolific providers of plastic bottles, the best dog toys on earth.
After dark, she'll usually start us out by turning left in front of the house, taking us up the hill to Elizabeth Park, across to Alden Place - former home of Meadville Theological School - with a big parking lot on the east side, and a big field on the west. Especially in deep snow, she loves the field, where she can poke that face down and run for ten or twenty feet at a time without coming up for air. I call it "face plowing." Her snow-covered face comes up, looks around, then pokes back down for another long furrow. We can do ten or fifteen minutes there if we have the time.
When I wheedle, cajole and pull with all of my strength to turn her toward home, she begins to misbehave, jumping up, biting and tugging the leash, biting my boots and humping my leg. But I prevail, dragging her home to be dried off and settled down for a nap - hopefully a long one.
I could use one of those myself.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Fire and Grace
For decades I've asked for nothing for Christmas and birthdays. I don't mean that I've not asked or anything. I mean that what I have asked for is nothing.
A few weeks ago I did the unthinkable. I turned sixty. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I actually asked for something. Since my life is no longer my own, that I'm either working, sleeping or dog sitting, and since the dog can't behave in my office, I asked for the technology to perform simple tasks from the living room. The obvious solution would be an Ipad, if I were willing to spend that much money. All through December, I was seeing ads on Facebook for the Kindle Fire. I went to Amazon.com and researched the Fire and decided that it would do what I wanted. I put one in Carmen's Amazon shopping cart. She took the hint and ordered it. Before she gave it to me, she Fired it up, activated it, and configured it to interface with our wireless internet. By the time she was done, she wanted one.
So here I sit in the living room, pounding out a new blog, created on Fire and posted exclusively (so far) from my new Kindle Fire while Grace sleeps off our hour-long walk. Life is good, even though it is no longer my own.
A few weeks ago I did the unthinkable. I turned sixty. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I actually asked for something. Since my life is no longer my own, that I'm either working, sleeping or dog sitting, and since the dog can't behave in my office, I asked for the technology to perform simple tasks from the living room. The obvious solution would be an Ipad, if I were willing to spend that much money. All through December, I was seeing ads on Facebook for the Kindle Fire. I went to Amazon.com and researched the Fire and decided that it would do what I wanted. I put one in Carmen's Amazon shopping cart. She took the hint and ordered it. Before she gave it to me, she Fired it up, activated it, and configured it to interface with our wireless internet. By the time she was done, she wanted one.
So here I sit in the living room, pounding out a new blog, created on Fire and posted exclusively (so far) from my new Kindle Fire while Grace sleeps off our hour-long walk. Life is good, even though it is no longer my own.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Life Changes
So I met Carmen at the Humane Society, we did some paperwork, a chip was implanted in our dog's neck, and I was sent to Wal-Mart for a crate. We assembled the crate in our bedroom, fed our new dog, took her for a walk and played with her for while before bedtime. Everything but the crate was purchased at Pet Smart in Erie earlier that day by Carmen, in anticipation of my acceptance of our new dog.
The next thing we needed was a barrier to contain her in the living room/kitchen area. Then another to keep her from going upstairs where the kitties were hiding... then another to keep her out of the foyer where the shoes, boots and other unauthorized dog toys are kept. Suddenly, pretty much anywhere we wanted to go, we were stepping over a barrier - and so were the cats. We bought another crate for the church office so Carmen could fulfill her dream of a church dog, and another barrier to keep her in the office without closing the door.
Early on, we discovered that long walks were required to help her be a good dog during the long days in the office. It was during an early one of these walks that she was named. Carmen was walking her in the pouring rain and thought,"It's going to take a lot of grit and grace to raise this puppy." As anticipated, I do the long walks, at least twice and often three times a day.
The cats pretty much lived upstairs for the first weeks. Lucia got over her fear and began hanging out downstairs more and more, and soon we realized that she actually enjoyed having Grace in the house. Lucia enticed Grace to play, and even rubbed on her affectionately during calmer moments.
The addition of one little bassador has completely changed the life of every mammal in the house. She makes us all crazy sometimes, but we love her in spite of it - all but Remus J. Lupin, of course. He is not amused.
The next thing we needed was a barrier to contain her in the living room/kitchen area. Then another to keep her from going upstairs where the kitties were hiding... then another to keep her out of the foyer where the shoes, boots and other unauthorized dog toys are kept. Suddenly, pretty much anywhere we wanted to go, we were stepping over a barrier - and so were the cats. We bought another crate for the church office so Carmen could fulfill her dream of a church dog, and another barrier to keep her in the office without closing the door.
Early on, we discovered that long walks were required to help her be a good dog during the long days in the office. It was during an early one of these walks that she was named. Carmen was walking her in the pouring rain and thought,"It's going to take a lot of grit and grace to raise this puppy." As anticipated, I do the long walks, at least twice and often three times a day.
The cats pretty much lived upstairs for the first weeks. Lucia got over her fear and began hanging out downstairs more and more, and soon we realized that she actually enjoyed having Grace in the house. Lucia enticed Grace to play, and even rubbed on her affectionately during calmer moments.
The addition of one little bassador has completely changed the life of every mammal in the house. She makes us all crazy sometimes, but we love her in spite of it - all but Remus J. Lupin, of course. He is not amused.
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