Tooth of the Dog

Seriously... don't his teeth look good?

Jack's been feeling a little rough the last few weeks with mysterious swollen glands and a bit of a fever so when he rolled over on his back for a belly rub and flashed me a toothy grin, I had to get a picture!  I'm so glad he's getting better!!  And he's acting more like his normal goofy self every day now.

Along the same timeline, I've been thinking that Lightning, Jack, and Gizmo all have pretty decent smelling breath and their teeth are looking a lot cleaner and whiter.  Gazing at Jack's picture got me thinking about it and wondering why.  That makes it sound like I think it's a bad thing...  And nothing could be less true.  Clean teeth are wonderful!  Just a bit of a surprise because they were getting kind of gunked up and I've been dreading the lecture next time we get to a vet.  Turns out I'm accidentally doing something right - the boys' favorite bedtime treat.

Just about every night before turning the lights out we share an APPLE.

Sometimes two.

The fleshy part of an apple contains a good bit of malic acid that helps dissolve the plaque and tartar on their teeth.  (Pick the seeds out or cut away the core - the seeds have an arsenic-like toxin in them that you shouldn't give to your dog.)  Other fresh fruits and vegetables help them have pretty smiles, too.  Carrots and celery were especially noted.  Carrots for the scraping crunch and celery because the strings act a bit like dental floss.  Well, who loves their fruits and veggies?  Yup.  That'd be my boys!

Gizmo isn't as much a fan of green vegetables or big pieces of carrot, but Lightning and Jack will eat anything I hold down for them.  So they get fresh carrots and chunks of celery now and then.  And pears, melon, corn on the cob (I hold it, they bite the kernels off), green beans, snow peas, cabbage, broccoli, cucumbers, peaches, plums, blueberries, strawberries, bananas... Lightning even likes lettuce, oranges, and tomatoes.  I'm thinking he'll be hard on that future garden and orchard!

Weird things for a dog to eat, huh?

But so healthy!

News From the Facebook Break

Overall, I think taking a break from Facebook has been a good thing.  Clarifying.

I had to login last night to find something and I found one friend in the midst of a cryptic meltdown, another left us hanging saying he'd gone to the ER with chest pains, and another had lost her sweet little dog.  I left sad.  I was sad that these horrible things are happening but even more I was sad that Facebook is the only way I know anything that's going on in their lives.  It made me wonder if we are really friends or something lesser with that label on it for lack of anything else to call it.  And if that's the case, it's just not good enough.

Time away has been educational.  The class I was dreading, I actually like.  And the one I had been looking forward to with some excitement, I really despise.  At least this term is half over now.  I'm still set to graduate at the end of August.  It only took 5 schools and 30+ years...

I've been doing some other than school reading, too.  And I think if you'll read these articles you'll walk away a bit smarter citizen of the world.  They might challenge your views and make you mad but sometimes truth comes to you in weird places.

• Yes, he says “magical” way too often.  Yes, it's an insult he directs at the liberal viewpoint in this piece about the Parkland shooting.  And if you are conservative, especially in deep on the right, you can wipe that smug smirk off your face.  Your side does the same damned thing.  And this kind of exploitation is morally corrupt.  Y’all need to just stop it!
• I would put a $5 bet that a majority of naturopaths and every traditional Chinese medical practioner on the planet is smacking their head and saying “Duh… ya think?” about this discovery of a new bodily organ.  
• The unintended consequences of getting it wrong run really deep.  You do need to read about China's former one-child policy.  If you're at all like me, what you think you know isn’t even scratching the surface of the political and social ramifications.

Jacky has been sick for about a week.  His sublingual lymph glands are hard and swollen, he's been packing on the pounds lately, and he feels so hot when I touch him.  Sometimes it seems like he wheezes but it's hard to call that a new symptom because he's always been breathy and melodramatic.  When he really needs to go potty, he's the one that will get right in my face and do a full body wiggle while he vocalizes "hhhhhoooooooouuuuuuutttt" like he's trying to say "out."  It's pretty hilarious but when he's such a goofball it also makes it hard to pick out behaviors that say this is what makes me think he's sick.  And the internet is no help.  The swollen glands could be anything from an allergy (we already have trees pollinating) to an injury (like from chewing on a stick outside) to a random bacterial infection to a thyroid problem like mine to cancer that would leave him about 6 weeks to live.  Sadly, I don't have unlimited funds to spend at the vet...  And he's eating, drinking, going potty, and sometimes playing with the other guys so I'm giving him a couple of baby aspirin night and morning to help with pain and inflammation and just trying to keep him active and comfortable in hopes it will work itself out.  And like chicken soup helps us feel better, chicken broth slurped from my big cup seems to do him good.

Reading about dog thyroid problems, which is somewhat prevalent in Dobermans, I learned they are treated with the exact same drugs I am.  But vets recommend breaking the pill in half and giving in two doses, morning and night, to keep blood levels more consistent. Makes sense.  And once again, veterinary medicine seems more advanced and patient-centered that people medicine.  I always said about our vet in Georgia, if he'd see me I'd go to him over my own doctor!

I’ve learned some new words, too.  Here’s a couple of them:

Pes (say w/long “a”) is a pretentious way to say foot, like that part you have running from ankle to toe.

Prepuce is the skin that covers your boy dog’s winkie.  (BTW if your groomer leaves a styled little frond of hair at the tip, and calls a Merkin, make them trim it off! It can cause all sorts of health problems like getting “it” stuck “out” which is a very bad thing and will require action from you that’s potentially quite disturbing. A Merkin is really a thing, a weird thing but… a thing, for people. If you want to know more, you’ll have to Google it for yourself. )

And I learned a couple of kitchen tricks!

If you are roasting cherry tomatoes, like for a salad, a very very slight dusting of powdered sugar preserves their bright red color and keeps the dish pretty.  Thanks for that tip, Alex Guarnaschelli!

Keep your plastic wrap in the freezer and it will come off the roll without sticking to itself.  You can actually get it to cover the dish just like Valerie Bertinelli did on her TV show.

2017 in Review

As 2018 is about to get itself underway, I find I’m still an accidental resident of Mount Savage, MD.  Accidental in that I never intended to be here and then when I found myself here, it was only supposed to be for a few days. That was just over a year ago.  My neighbors include a couple of giant raccoons, a fearless Momma possum, some rogue deer, and judging from the scratch marks on the deck… a black bear that wants to be a whole lot more friendly than makes me comfortable.  There’s an assortment of dogs and cats and even some humans, too.  I’ve managed to meet a few of them, even some of the people, this past year and one person, Barbara, has transformed from possibly the most negative and prickly woman I’ve ever met into a true and faithful friend.

I’ve only begun to explore my habitat but already found that Mount Savage is one of those historically significant places that no one’s ever really heard about.  Through the convergence of location and natural resource availability, it became a center of industry in the late 1800s and has fame for rolling the steel for the first railroad track ever produced in the United States. It was also a company-owned town for a time when the clay taken from the surrounding mountains produced a uniquely high-quality brick that’s still prized by collectors and those doing period-correct property restorations.  One day I want to find out more and go take some photos of the old brick ovens. I also want to check out the museum now housed in the town’s original one-cell jail built specifically to provide drunks a safe place to sleep it off.

One of the things that kept me from exploring was an accident early in the year where I badly injured my right shoulder. That ‘grounded’ me for several months. With Jack’s efforts as nursemaid, support brace, heating pad, exercise machine, and 24/7 comforter, the breaks and tears and nerve damage of a total dislocation are probably about as healed as they’re ever going to get now and it’s mostly ok.  There are some activities it inhibits, though… Like crocheting and cooking and cutting the dog’s toenails.  Those have become decidedly short-duration undertakings due to the numb fingers they trigger.  I also had to take time off school because I couldn’t get my hand up to the computer keyboard to post in discussions and write all those papers but I’m back at it now and making progress.  A few days ago I had that breakthrough moment where I actually felt competent talking Psychology and that this might be a real viable career choice for my last shot at that sort of stuff.  That was an awesome feeling!

The most exotic place I’ve been this whole year is the County dump.  It’s a unique arrangement here where you have to stop along the way at a specific Payless Drug and buy stickers to put on your trash bags.  They are $1 each and every bag needs one.  If you arrive on site without them, you’ll be ushered the 7-ish miles halfway back to town, or about the same distance on out the road to a different store in another town, to get them.  Just ask me how I know this…

I’m still being a culinary adventurer.  This year’s ‘new to me’ winner foods include quince, Sugar cakes, and Apple Pan Dowdy.  Quince is a fruit that resembles a yellow apple but has a much more perfume-like scent and taste.  I understand (now) that it’s meant to be cooked but when I found some at the grocery store I just bought one to taste and me and the boys ate it raw. I’m intrigued enough to put it in the orchard I’m imagining for my someday place… and Lightning, my resident foodie, found it delicious.  Sugar Cakes are huge, pillowy, cake-like sugar cookies.  Imagine a Lofthouse cookie and a homemade yellow cake had a round pale-faced baby… and you’re sort of close.  They can be frosted when cooled or just sprinkled with a little sugar prior to baking.  Oh, they are yummy! And Apple Pan Dowdy may be my favorite dessert ever.  It is the perfect combination of pie and bread pudding and caramelly baked apples. Where has this been my whole life?  The Sugar Cakes, Apple Pan Dowdy, and several uniquely Pennsylvania Dutch dishes like Slippery Pot Pie and Rivvel Soup are Barbara’s contribution to expanding my gastronomic curiosity.

Gizmo kissed a cat.  And the cat liked it!  Out of all my guys, his herding tendency made me worried about how he’d get on with the cats.  But he loves Crybaby, a yellow-striped tom that’s also part of this motley crew, and Crybaby loves him.  Crybaby actually likes all the boys and works hard to engage them in goofy little games much to his Mommy’s consternation…  Barbara is over-worried one of them is going to pounce “and break his back because they are so big and rough.” Yes, you just heard my eyes roll but I respect her discomfort and regularly call them off.

Plans for 2018 include finishing up the final classes for my BA in Psychology, making my final selection for grad school, and getting things underway for my MA.  My concentration area has been Social Psychology but I’ve enjoyed the Forensics classes so much more that I think that’s where I will focus my graduate work.  My other goals are pretty tightly focused on job and home and community getting adequately situated in all of them.  I also want to get back to taking little adventures and finding delight in the extraordinary details of day-to-day life that exist if I’m purposeful in paying attention to them. And if I can, I hope to sneak in some art and creative writing.  Which brings us to the goal that’s relevant to this blog: When my life isn’t all that interesting, I lose steam.  So… either I’m going to live a blog-worthy life or take the blog down in this coming year.

Always & Forever Mama's Jacky

I am so glad Jack is mine!  And so thankful Derek found him on eBay and insisted we go get him when my heart was hurting over having to return Roscoe to the shelter and I really didn't want to "replace" him the same day.  Jack has become such a friend and blessing!!  And it doesn't hurt that he has the cutest personality, and hence, lots of silly little stories...

Waiting on a treat with rapt attention in May 2014...

Jack is a lover!

Were there a pillow under his chin here, this is the view I wake up to pretty much each morning - his nose.  With his head stretched out along side mine and his hot breath in my eyeball is how we frequently welcome the day.  All night long we sleep with some part of him touching me but usually along toward morning he migrates toward the top of the bed almost like a guardian angel watching for me to wake up.  (His thoughts might be more like "Get up and feed me!" but I can always imagine right?)  Then as time moves on, Jack is the boy most likely to come rest his chin on either my lap or chest and gaze at me for loves and kisses.  Especially if they come with a little treat!  And if I'm sad, he's the first in line to lick away the tears and kiss it all better.  You really couldn't ask for a sweeter canine companion. I ask him sometimes just how they got so much sugar in one puppy...

Jack is my protector!

One afternoon there was a white cat wandering along the treeline out back.  All the boys saw it and starting barking their heads off... but Jacky was all set to protect me from this threatening intruder.  He was growling and down in his attack stance and all the hair along the ridge of his back was standing straight up!  For them to bark at birds, the occasional cottontail or even leaves moving in the breeze isn't unusual... but for my little man to get this worked up?  It got my attention.  I stood back and watched with some amusement as the cat nonchalantly made his way through the trees and up through the yard of one of the houses behind us perfectly unaware of the ruckus he (or maybe it's a she?) was causing.  Once the kitty was out of sight, the boys all settled down.  Poor Jack's back legs were shaking so hard I wondered for a minute how he stayed standing!  He was scared out of his mind but would have gone right to battle to keep me safe!!

Jack is a giant!

A sleepy Jacky... all that growing is tiring!

My baby, the last of the dogs to reach the birthday anniversary every year, will celebrate his fourth birthday in July.  He's been visibly "taller" than his bestest buddy, Lightning, since he was a year old and I was sure he would fill out some.  But just a couple of days ago, I wondered if he'd gotten taller still! Gizmo can walk underneath him without crouching down at all.  Line the three of them up side by side and it's like a staircase... Jack has the longest legs! But he still won't jump and has to be boosted into the back of the car.

Jack is a clown!

A rousing match of mouth wrestling is in progress.

The way my boys play can be a little unnerving to the uninitiated... I sort of like to call this shot "The Gaping Jaws of Hell." It's Lightning and Jack playing together - mouth wrestling. They never actually bite each other, just open their mouths wide and growl and make other unusual vocalizations as part of a full body contact wrestling match.  Even when they put their mouth over the other's head or neck or other reachable body part, their jaws never close and their body language, wagging tail and happy facial expressions, tells me they are having fun.  This isn't how Jack usually plays with Gizmo, though.  And that's much to Gizzy's dismay.  It's almost like Jacky recognizes that Giz is only half his size and he spends a lot more time down on his elbows or rolling around wrestling in a gentler way.

This is Jack shortly after we brought him home.  Lightning was so excited to have a new puppy and turned into the best big brother/babysitter... His face seemed to say "A puppy!!!  Thank you Mommy for getting me the greatest toy ever made!!"

Baby Jack... He still fit in my arms and on my lap!

And this is him just a couple of months ago...  Just like all Mommies, I'm asking "why must they grow up so fast?"

Big boy Jack... but still my baby!

I sure do love you, baby boy!!

5 Minutes You'll Never Get Back

Last night as we were getting settled in bed Gizmo decided he needed to snuggle. He may be all sorts of wonderful but a snuggle dog Gizmo is not... He just doesn't have that soft, squishy, comfortable-to-cuddle-on-your-lap kind of body and he doesn't usually even try but every now and then he decides you are in desperate need of a dose of his kind of lovin' and heaven help you, there's not a darn thing you can do about it. You will be Gizzered!

Gizmo, November 11, 2016

Last night was my lucky night...

He took a mighty leap at my side and ended up clinging for dear life with his front legs wrapped over the top of my head and the rest of his body hanging down past my shoulder. His embrace felt more like being trapped in the clenches of a love sick baboon than something pleasant, but I love my little dude so I endured it. Jack was sound asleep and snoring by my other knee already folded into as neat a little ball as a 100-lb Doberman can get which is, actually, surprisingly compact. And in that moment, for no apparent reason whatsoever, I got the giggles. Like out of control, could not stop, shrieking-at-the-top-of-my-lungs kind of giggles proving once again that I am awfully easy to keep entertained. Anyway, I laughed so hard there were tears running down my face. I was gasping for breath and probably turning blue from lack of oxygen. I laughed so hard I almost threw up. Lightning was so worried! He kept stomping round and round and over the top of me, crushing a lung in the process, and sniffing at my face. His expression was utter confusion about what was wrong with me. I guess I don't indulge in a good hard laugh often enough... I guess that needs to change!

Jack, November 11, 2016

After I finally got myself under control, and Gizmo off of me, I decided I was hungry and deserved a snack for surviving such a most excellent workout. I've been very good and didn't even buy any easy-grab-and-snack-junky stuff on the last grocery run so I had to resort to one of my Mom's standby munchies: buttered saltines. Yeah, I know. Ew! Could there be a food that tastes more like cardboard? And butter "just greases it up so it slides better," as she used to say. My Mom buttered everything. Everything. Even pepperoni pizza. But I digress... We were snacking on crackers (which I don't even like except with chili and then it's more like I have a little chili with my bowl of crushed up crackers) and Lightning burps like a third grader in a school yard contest. I swear if he knew how, that was a burp where he could have got the whole alphabet out. He looked as surprised by it as I was!

Lightning, November 11, 2016

To celebrate his utter lack of good manners and top the evening off, I took on the challenge of getting all 3 boys to howl at the moon with me. Not an easy fete! It's like they know howling is a talent that they missed the heavenly line up to get for this lifetime so it takes some serious effort to get an "owoooooo" going. And they still sound more like strangling goats than anything... Is it sad that I have a better howl than my dog? True story!

If you're still reading you've either laughed with me at least once or I just succeeded in wasting 5 minutes of your life that you've got no chance of ever getting back.  Either way...

Thanks for sharing in my bit of ridiculousness!!

The Clipping of the Toe Nails

Should I suddenly and mysteriously die, the coroner tasked with figuring out why would wonder about all the scratches and gashes and bruises and punctures on my body and probably formulate a theory about ritualistic torture.  S/he’d be wrong… but circumstantial evidence would certainly point toward that being a viable theory.  The dog’s nails are even longer now than when I last asked the vet to clip them during a visit and he declined saying they’d wear down naturally as the boys were outside running around more over the summer.  That may be a perfectly true statement if they went out on a paved surface.  I can see how concrete would act as a kind of rasp and keep their nails down to a reasonable length.  But they are on grass.  And grass doesn’t make much of a file.  And their nails are now very long and very sharp!  They’ve pretty much become deadly weapons… And I am getting badly abused as we play and snuggle and jostle for sleeping position.

“Ouch!!” and “Owe baby… your wicked talons are ripping my flesh open so my guts will spill out and I will die and THEN who will feed you and drive you places?” have become way too frequent and dramatic exclamations around here.  Reaching for something to wipe up a trickle of blood as it runs down my leg has also become way too frequent of an occurrence.  And the amount of peroxide I buy to get blood stains out of my clothes is starting to garner me suspicious glances! I have the scars to back up one whale of a tall tale should I ever want to tell one!

It was time for me to get over this little fear and clip their nails myself.

I found this picture on Pinterest but the link leads to a dead blog...
leaving me with a really good illustration but no one to credit for its
creation.  Anonymous Wise Person, thank you!

So I went through all the preparations.  I studied up on clippers and techniques and safety precautions.  I gathered my tools.  I steeled my resolve.  And I wrangled Jack into position.

And clip.  Clip, clip, clip. One paw done.  He didn't pull away at all.  He just sat there, leaned down to sniff the clipper once, and watched me clip away.  The other 3 feet were done the same way.  His ONLY reaction was the expression on his face that said "Jack don't give a [insert your your favorite inflammatory exclamation here]!"  Lightning was curious about the sound and thought the little clipped ends that went flying would make a good snack.  He was probably also jealous that Jack was the center of my attention for those few minutes... the jealousy is strong between those two!  He tried to push his way in a couple of times.  My only struggle with clipping Jack's nails was making Lightning wait for his turn.  And then he sat there for me just as patiently.  Gizmo was the only objector... but he's afraid of pretty much everything so that shouldn't be a huge surprise, I guess.  It took a couple of treats, some soothing words, and a little longer but his nails are done, too, without a lot of undue fuss.

Honestly, clipping their toe nails is easier than clipping my own!

All that build up.  All the people telling me it was such a big deal - a difficult and dangerous and odious task better left to veterinarians and groomers who are trained to do it. All that time I spent worried about hurting them, or me!  Why?  I was thinking I would get to impress you mastering a new skill and it just ended up being no big deal.  I feel robbed.  Totally let down and deflated.  (Yes, I'm exaggerating!)  Either I have the most stupendously wonderful dogs in the whole world or this whole nail clipping thing is scam to steal your money!  It's probably that I've got really great dogs!!

There are a couple of things I learned worth passing along, though:

• Take some time to touch your dogs feet and get them comfortable with their paws being handled.  Don't stick your fingers in between their toes, though.  That's one of those ticklish in an uncomfortable way, and it might get you bit, kind of places for many dogs.
• Figure out how to identify the "quick."  It's the fleshy bit on the inside where the blood vessel is.  If you cut it, there will be blood.  And pain.  And you'll probably feel even worse about doing it than the dog does!! But it's not the end of the world if you do nick it.
• Learn the very simple first aid steps to deal with a cut to the quick.  You can get styptic powder from a pet supply (or maybe even a barber? I remember my Dad had a "styptic stic" in his shaving stuff.) or even use baking soda, cornstarch or a quick rub with a clean bar of soap to stop the bleeding.
• Handle the clippers a bit before you touch the dog with them.  Get used to how they feel in your hands and how the handles and blade move. You'll jump if you get pinched using them and when you jump your dog will jump, too.
• Be calm.  Talk to your dog is confident soothing tones so they have the cues to relax and be confident you aren't hurting them.  Use treats to reward good behavior.

Adventures of the Canine Kind

Lest you think I’m the one having all the fun…  The boys have been having some adventures all their own.

Despite their firm resolution that water is meant for drinking, they’ve been ‘swimming’ in the creek a couple of times.  Shhh… don’t tell them it was a bath.  Swimming sounds so much more adventurous!  Jack is an especially good swimmer.  He can cover the width of the swimming hole in just a couple of strokes.  Lightning stands on the bottom with his back legs and paddles furiously with his front paws – basically going nowhere but splashing an amazing amount of water.  And like nearly everything else in life, Gizmo just plods along at slow and steady pace, unruffled and happy to be with you.

And here’s photographic proof taken this morning that they are here and healthy.  These are the expectant faces trying to convey the message that they like strawberry pop tarts, too, and that they really truly deserve a bite off mine.  The looks were more intense until I grabbed the camera. I guess it just doesn’t rattle the same as that silvery pastry wrapper.

We were here, at the cabin, for a few days at the beginning of the month and then down in the Hagerstown MD area for about 2 weeks.  I came back up this past Wednesday.  Lightning remembered.  And coming down the lane that would unnerve a less intrepid woman, he started his “we are at the dog park” yowling.  The closer to the cabin we got, the louder he got.  And you know it… the other two couldn’t stand being out-yowled so they joined in, each upping the intensity of their carrying on. Pretty soon I didn’t know if I was bouncing and tipping back and forth from their dances or from the road!!  I think it’s safe to say they are happy up here.

Each has made some escape attempts, though.  I keep trying to tell them that we are only pretend country and this is real country up here and they just don’t have the knowledge and skills to survive like country dogs.  They look at me like I’m saying some awful purty-toned “blah blah blah… blah blah blah blah.” And then they haul butt to explore.  Every weed and tree and fence post is new and the scents are simply intoxicating to their canine sensibilities and must be sniffed out.  And marked as their own. They don’t grasp that I’d be really sad if they became some black bear’s midnight snack!

And I know they wouldn’t have the sense to back down and run the other way if they saw a bear...

Or leave the snakes alone…

Or stay off the highway if they happened to wander that far…

Or away from another house where they could be shot as an unwanted stray...

Or out of trash cans and away from assorted dead rodents…

See what I mean by pretend country?  We may have been in a semi-rural looking area in Georgia, but we lived like we were in the city.  My guys are basically dumbed-down, pampered, house dogs.

Last night was Gizmo’s shot at being the evil bad dawg… He ran off.  That boy hauled himself down to the creek, over the bridge and up the other lane on our turnoff to chase chickens.  There’s a house painted a striking shade of sky blue not far up that little road.  And there are hundreds of chickens and guineas wandering around there.  (I may be exaggerating again, but there are a lot!) I’m going to guess that the birds have turned mostly wild because of the number free ranging along the road and each hen is herding a good sized brood of chicks.  I wouldn’t expect the number or all those hatchlings in a domestic flock, especially at this time of year.  I wanted to knock him right into next month for that stunt.  I didn’t.  But I sure wanted to in those moments I was dragging him back to the car away from “Squawkfest 2016.”

A Visit to the Dog Park

There's a new dog park close to my house.  It's way more convenient than the one Derek and I had taken Thunder and Lightning to when they were about 6 months old... back before things went south.  My next door neighbor had told me about Coleman Camp Park and the dog park that had just been added and after getting some directions from her, me and the boys have made a couple of visits.  Here are some pictures:

Lightning saying it's the best Mommy/doggy date ever!

Inside the fenced Large Dog area looking toward the park's pavilion.

There's a splash fountain for water loving dogs to play in.
My guys act scared out of their minds when it comes on...

And there's tires to climb on and crawl through.
The way Jack and Gizmo go all commando under my bed, you'd
think they'd love this.  But you'd be wrong.  It got a couple of
sniffs and then was completely ignored.

Thunder thought drinking from the doggy drinking fountain was
the greatest thing in the history of ever.

Dog bone shaped bench.  The cutest thing for a dog park
or what?

Mostly they just galloped laps around the park.  We had it all to ourselves...  Lightning kept coming up to me with the silliest happy grin almost like he couldn't remember having so much fun before and then he'd take off again and run hard.  Jack was so worked up over the event that his back leg just shivered everytime he stood still for a moment.  And poor Gizmo whose short legs don't move so fast, wore out first from trying to keep up.  Even at home, I call him Pokey because it almost always takes him longer to get to the door to come in.

After about an hour they were all looking for shady spots to lay down in the grass so I gathered them up to go home and they crashed.  Nothing but snores for a couple of hours...  It was an awesome break!

We'll definitely be going back to this park often!

When Rover Goes Missing

We've all been drilled in this modern day to microchip our pets so it's easier to find them if they should go missing.  Today, with the ulterior motive of finding out how to update the contact information, I asked the vet how they work.  And he was gracious enough to spend 20 minutes or so educating me and checking Lightning, Jack and Gizmo for chips.

Jack doesn't have one.  Or the one that the folks at Banfield inserted in his scruff is faulty and doesn't read.  No... I won't go on another rant about just how much I hate them.  I do hate them!  I'm just sparing you the rant about it.  Lightning and Gizmo, and Thunder I presume though he wasn't with us to check, have chips made and/or maintained by a company called Home Again.  I don't have the other names, but he said they are one of several companies to offer this service.

What got me thinking about this was the bill I got awhile back for Gizmo's chip.

Home Again wants $18.97 each year.  That made me worry that they could somehow 'turn off' the chip so he couldn't be scanned at a vet or shelter were he to be picked up loose somewhere...  That's kind of what the bill led me to believe and it made me a little nervous.  I thought it was outrageous!  Better to look dumb and be sure than end up with a problem down the road, so I asked about it.

The vet explained the yearly fee is for their 'location service.'  In a nutshell, when your pet goes missing you alert them and send them a recent picture so they can prepare fliers for you to print and post in your neighborhood and they fax the information to area vets and shelters.  I have a computer and the minimal skills needed to make a flier and I can place a few phone calls...  He agreed that the yearly fee is pretty much a rip off.  He also said that 5 times more lost pets are reunited with their families because of Facebook postings than those fliers.  Once the chip is there, it's there.  You may, depending on the brand, have to pay to register it and, again depending on the brand, update your contact information.  But unless you move or change phone numbers, the location service is a needless extra charge and not something you have to subscribe to in order for the chip to be active.

If you don't update your information, the chip will point the organization searching for you to claim your lost pet to the vet who originally purchased it and hopefully they will be able to reach you.  The biggest problem with this is if your pet is hurt at night or on a weekend while out on his (or her?) adventure and they can't reach the vet's office.  Most shelters will NOT provide even basic life saving care while you are being sought...

So tonight I'm updating the address and phone number on their microchips.  And 2 years down the road trying to register Thunder's and Lightning's chips because, even though Banfield was paid for that, it wasn't done.  Yay.  And yay, again, Jack will have to be chipped when I scrape up another $40 for it.

In the vets office, he brought out the reader to show me how it worked. It's kind of similar to and used like the 'wand' that TSA probes you with at the airport and when it goes over the microchip it beeps and displays an alphanumeric code in the display window.  That code, much like a barcode, is the identifying information linking you to your pet in their database.  The vet or shelter staff can enter it in to the website and get an owner's contact information and pretty soon witness a happy reunion.

And that, my friends, is what I learned about microchips today.

And no... I'm not happy that I have to come up with $100 to get everyone chipped with the correct information.  It's another place where it feels like I'm needlessly hemorrhaging money that I don't have but they kind of have me over a barrell.  Now that I know that Home Again is so fee oriented I will specifically request that they not be used on any future pet.

Two Peas in a Pod

Lightning and Jack have become like peas in a pod... they act so similar to each other, play the same way, use the same vocalizations and will seek each other out for companionship.  The past few days I've been able to sneak up and snap a quick photo of them napping together and laying on the floor in the same positions just inside my living room.  This is their favorite hangout spot while I'm working in the kitchen or piddling around on the internet here at the table.

I love that even their paws are in the same position!

 These are the 2 that will click their teeth together at each other in the middle of a wrestling match.  Thunder and Gizmo take that as an aggressive act, but these two act like it's funny and do it toward each other all the time.  And their wrestling matches can stretch for hours with one on top and then the other as they roll and jump and twist and dive bomb each other.

Dos Amigos...

They are also the 2 who are most likely to lay their heads up over my legs to snuggle and nap for hours on either the couch or bed.  The other boys like attention until they are ready to sleep and then it's pretty much hands off.  But Lightning and Jacky... they like the physical contact with their human, me.

Lightning has been especially good at looking out for Jack since he was neutered on Tuesday.   They kept the play a little more gentle and let it escalate into their usual antics at Jack's pace.  It didn't take long.  He came home thirsty and very hungry but after getting his tummy full and a little more reassurance that we all still love him, he jumped right in!

He'll get his chance to console big brother soon enough.  Lightning is scheduled for a little snip snip of his own on Wednesday of this coming week.

Back to back this time, but still remarkably similar.

See that ring toy in the background?  Lightning finally learned to play tug with me using it.  He's the only one, so far, that will pick it up and pull against me when I hold the other end.  And then shake it mightily... sometimes so mightily that I think it's going to rip my arms out.  Yesterday and today, he's been teaching Jack to tug with him.

It's so fun to watch them together!

I love my boys!!

Random-nimity

When I was a baby, not even big enough to remember her ever working on it, my Grandma Clarke made me a true patchwork quilt.  Still buried in one of the dozen boxes to be unpacked when I finally get my 'woman cave,' it's made of randomly shaped and sized pieces of silky fabric that came mostly from her dresses or the scraps of material left when she made a new one.  I can sort of remember her in a couple of the dresses and there are old black and white photos where you can match the fabric pattern up for a few more, but most of them totally escape my memory.

I was thinking about that quilt the other day and how the random acts of a life can be a lot like one of those 'crazy patch' quilts.

And that's what today is about...

Random things.

Not so much that they're too insignificant to be the topic of an entire blog post, or even Facebook update, just that the post never came together and materialized in a form I wanted to share.  Mostly it's little things...  Things like how luck works.

It's no secret that we are pretty desperately poor and really scraping to make bills each month.  That's part of what irritated me, though I kept silent about it, when Derek bought the occasional lottery ticket.  Except... last night he got a winning ticket!  One worth more than the $5 he put into it.  A LOT more!!

That's right!  $500, baby!!!

That makes the mortgage for November a whole lot easier!

And I put up the fridge magnets (FINALLY!) that I kept during last year's move.  My friend's son's pictures have been in these magnetic frames for... well, I don't really remember when I put them in the frames but it's been a long time.  Those little boys have long been grown men by now.

Nathan, the older one, used to call me whenever he could sneak it past mom's watchful eye.  It was a long distance call - they lived in Wyoming then and I still lived in Idaho.  He was polite and thoughtful, almost like an old-time suitor.  He never failed to inquire about my mom's health, the weather, work, our small black poodle...  For a little man, Nathan sure could carry on the grown up conversation!  And it just tickled me pink and gave me quite the thrill that out of all the people in the world, he'd choose to call me.

I wonder if he remembers?

For about an hour this afternoon we all made a dog pile on the bed and watched football.  I think it was the Florida/Maryland game... but I'm not enough of a fan to really follow super close so I could be wrong.  For me watching a sports event is more of a social thing than actually being a fan of the team or sport.  I understand what's happening enough to enjoy the game, but not enough to seek it out on my own.

All of which has absolutely nothing to do with anything...

Pardon the puppy porn...

In the dog pile, Gizmo kept turning over and skooching around to find the most comfortable spot.  He ended up stretched along my side on his back with my arms around his butt.  (Insert bad joke about him being such a little cuddle butt.)  What I was noticing, though, is the skin of his tummy region where it's less covered by fur.  It's both dark brown and pale pink in blotches much like the Indian Paint Ponies made famous in B-grade western movies.  And so so soft and warm!

And, she says with an evil grin, ticklish!!

Mama's Boy

Jack is a mama's boy!

Actually, they all are... But it's my littlest one (for a few more months anyway) that makes it most clear, with all his 40 pounds, that he is mine.  Or I am his.  We are ours?  Well, something like that.

He has such tender little feelings.  All it takes for him to be convinced he's done something earth-shatteringly bad is to speak to him with a tone of impatience in your voice.  And to be 'bad' is like the end of life as we now know it!  Jack is surely my sensitive boy.

Sleepy sleepy Jack!

Last night was one of those nights when it was needful for me to have a break away from the boys so, after work, Derek took them downstairs to hang out and watch a football game he'd saved on the DVR while I holed up in the bedroom and watched a chick flick by myself.  It was a wonderful break!

About an hour in, there was a soft knock on the door.  It was Derek asking if I knew where the dogs were.  Smiling, I guessed they were sleeping in the hall.  And that's exactly where they were!  He laughed and said they'd been running down and nose bonking him and then disappearing back upstairs but he hadn't seen one for awhile and come looking because they'd got awfully quiet.  That usually means they've found something they shouldn't be doing to occupy themselves...  I laughed and told him he could let them in and all 4 climbed up on the bed and napped the rest of the way through the movie until Derek came back upstairs and asked if they needed to go potty.

All but Jack jumped right up to go.  When he sleeps he's out cold and it takes a bit of coaxing to get him up and moving again.  Derek got a little impatient and spoke with just a wee bit of harshness in his voice and that was enough to turn Jack into a cowering pile of puppy mush...  And when he finally got outside he didn't want to come back in past Derek and when they got past that hurdle he had another panic attack when he realized he'd be kind of cornered in the hall when Derek got there to open the bedroom door.  Needless to say, my poor baby was shaking and his face was creased with worry by the time he got back to me and crawled up in my arms.  He looked like he was carrying all the burdens of the world until I got him scooped up.  Then he was his normal happy wiggling self again!  He even gave Derek a slurpy wet puppy kiss.

It's a powerful feeling to be the mommy that can make everything right with your baby's world!

Blackjack, Second of His Name

Realizing that I've mentioned it but never actually properly introduced the newest member of our family...  how about we fix that?  Meet Blackjack!

Jack for short.

Jack and a few toys (in varying stages of being shredded).

Or sometimes Jacky.  Or Jackjack.  And he's Jack-a-Lacka-Wing-Wong (in a goofy sort of sing-song voice) when I'm being silly...

He's a black and tan Doberman Pinscher who was being sold at bargain basement clearance price on eBay.  The breeder was ready to breed another of their dogs and needed the pen where this little guy was living.   He was the last puppy left from a previous litter and he had to go.  So they cut his price in half and put his picture on eBay where Derek found it and as they say, the rest is history.

Our little Jack is a name-sake for the dog Derek's family had when he was a child, another large black and tan Doberman.  And though his sister says we 'have to' get his ears done to keep the name, I think it's stuck on him by now.  With the floppy ears she says he looks like a hound... and she sings Elvis to him:  "You ain't nuttin' but a hound dawg!"

Jack is a good-natured little guy who loves to cuddle and kiss.  Kisses can be a dangerous proposition, though.  He still isn't convinced that teeth are not a part of kissing.

We feel pretty lucky to have him since he's such a perfect fit personality-wise with our other boys.  He jumps in and plays along with them, and fights his way to the front of the treats line, like he doesn't realize he's only about 1/3 their size yet.  Just give him a few months and he'll catch up.

And just like the others, he will eat anything I give him!  ANYTHING!!  Bananas, peanut butter and pumpkin puree are the currently favored treats. Somehow to me that stuff doesn't sound very dog-like but the drool streaming out their mouths would convince you they find it to be pretty darned tasty bites.

He sounds like a mooing cow when he moans in his sleep!  He's outgrown it now, but Lightning did that as a baby and I L.O.V.E.D. it so much!  So that Jack does it, too... well, it just melts my heart.

Today, Jack discovered that he fits into places the bigger dogs don't anymore.  He crawled under the futon downstairs and started nipping at feet as Thunder and Lightning and Gizmo would dart up to play with him.  One time he caught Thunder's back foot and so he stepped up onto the futon and then Jack nipped his opposite front foot and he put it up on the ottoman... with the next nip, Thunder shot straight up in the air and straddled the space in between the futon and ottoman.  It was so funny!!

We met Jack's parents when we picked him up and estimate he's going to be another huge dog based on their sizes.  And researching some other stuff Derek uncovered an interesting factoid about these very large Dobermans that neither of us knew before.  When a male's weight exceeds 100 pounds, he's referred to as a Warlock.  These Warlocks came into being in the 1970's in Europe when Dobermans' were just coming into fashion as guard dogs and there wasn't enough breeding stock to meet the demand for puppies.  Some were bred with Great Danes... and today's big boys are a throwback to those Dobie/Dane bloodlines.