An Open Letter to My Dogs

I was busy this morning and had what seemed like a hundred things to do. I rushed about, tying loose ends, then readying for work. I packed my work and gym bag, and plopped some leftover shepherd's pie in a tupperware.

All the while, 2 fuzzy bodies watched my movements. Two sets of eyes hoping I'd pick up that tennis ball again and throw it just one more time. Or reach into the freezer for just one more round of doggie ice cubes. Muffled whines from Nyxie as the ball rolled under the couch. I absentmindedly moved the ottoman and retrieved it. Her tail wagging joyously - thankful I had noticed. As I gathered my clothes and prepared to shower, you quietly moved your bone and ball into the bedroom. Arwen placed her head on my lap, half- hearted ear scratches are better than none. I showered with Nyxie lying on the bathroom mat, ever watchful, nearby, reliable.

And me, with my hurrying and my schedule and my stuff. Always something.

I will be home soon, my girls. And you will forgive me like always.

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Perimeter Breach?

I have to share with you a funny incident that just happened...

Our apartment building was scheduled to have the exterior painted today.  We were told ahead of time and knowing Nyxie's...idiosyncrasies, I decided to walk the girls earlier than usual to avoid any chance encounters with an army of white-clad painters and their many tools.

We were back home, with the blinds drawn, in large part, due to the heat.  I typed and read, while the girls played joyfully at my feet.  Bitey Face on!

Suddenly, there was a loud THUMP on the balcony.  The painters had finally reached our balcony and were ready to start working just on the other side of our sliding glass door.  In mid play-hop, Nyxie stopped.  She stood stock-still and stared at the drawn blinds.  One, two, maybe three seconds passed and then she let out a loud WOOF!!!

Last week Daddy groomed Nyxie on the "once safe" balcony.  Daddy didn't know I was filming ;)

In those moments of silence,  a scary realization dawned on her : PERIMETER BREACH - FROM THE BALCONY!  I don't think she ever imagined she'd have 2 potential points of entry to patrol!  I lured them into their crates immediately, some quick behavior exercises followed by a chewy treat each, and the world was made good again.

The painters have since finished, but poor Nyxie's been keeping a close eye on that balcony all afternoon...

Stormy Road Ahead - The First Leg from Maine to New Jersey

Matt had brilliantly planned our route south from Maine.  He took into account the travel time and distance through each major city along our beloved East coast to meticulously avoid each rush hour and “sun in the eyes” time.  Our trip started around four in the afternoon, leading us through New York at dark. 

The girls seemed confused and edgy, certainly reflecting our own feelings as we left our beloved Maine.  What was ahead?  What would Texas be like?  We had no idea.  I can’t imagine the girls had any thoughts of this, but the drive early on was tense and uncertain.  We felt displaced and alone -tiny specks on a map line, eating mile after mile of road.  We wondered what our friends in Portland were doing as we lumbered on towards Texas. 

We kept our eyes peeled for rest areas that were well lit and busy enough to seem welcoming, but deserted enough to allow Nyxie to stretch her legs without creating a scene.  We stopped about every four hours.  We both love road trips, but Matt is definitely the one best capable of driving long distances.  The older I get, the more apt I am to feel dreadfully sleepy while driving unless something keeps me company.  Matt needed sleep on his breaks and the girls’ quiet panting was mesmerizing.  Haimmie slumbered in his hammock and Miss Poo continued being a snake – neither of which provided any sort of lively company.  My eyes started to droop somewhere in New Jersey until I saw the first streak if lightening.  Seconds later, I heard the thunder and knew it was time to stop again before the rain followed.

Haimmie snoozed in his hammock most of the drive, oblivious to the miles rushing past us.

The New Jersey rest stop was bright and gaudy, with neon signs advertising coffee and pizza.  I wanted neither but the girls needed water and a leg break.  Turning off the engine woke Matt and we carefully extracted the girls from their tiny half-backseat.  Each of these walks was nerve-wracking for me.  I imagined the girls dashing past me in their excitement to get out of the car.  I imagined broken leashes and injuries that would require emergency vet care.  I imagined losing my girls and that fear was physically painful.  As they were growing restless and undoubtedly infected by my own fear, I decided to slip them a sedative cocktail.  I gave each girl a Pill Pocket with dreamy drugs – just enough Ace Promazine for their weight range.  Another thunder crack, this time closer than the last.  With Arwen and Nyxie back in the car, and Matt still snoozing away his well-earned nap, I headed into the rest stop and did some comfort shopping – Twinkies, Cokes, a candy bar and a couple of bottled waters.  I couldn’t find anything I could justify buying in the rest stop, and just made it back to the xB (remember the magical car?) as plump rain drops pelted the windshield.  The storm was upon us. 

Note all the space around Arwen?  NOT taken while on our road trip.  Imagine Nyxie next to her, both squished by "stuff"

“Where are we?” muttered Matt, lifting his hat from his face.

“Still in New Jersey.  There’s a nasty storm rolling in so we’ll be here awhile.”

“Damn” he exhaled, settling farther into his pillow.  Behind him, the girls rested their heads and eyes began to droop.  I sat wide awake, scanning the parking lot and locking the doors. 

“Go to sleep, girls – Momma’s got you covered.”

Soooo sleeeepy.....

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Please check out a couple of articles I've written lately.  Feel free to "Like" or leave comments!

The 1st is about my imaginary summer vacation and is featured on the Fido Friendly Blog.

The 2nd discusses some of what we found in Dallas when we arrived and is featured on the HelloDallas website.

Level 5? Nah....

As most of you know, Nyxie is a very protective girl.  When there is a stranger nearby, or a door is knocked, she’s the first to alert about danger.  And in her strict, militant German Shepherd mind, danger lurks everywhere!  We understand this about her and each day brings new opportunities to separate high alert, Level 5 dangers from minimal, Level 1 & 2 dangers.  The poor girl used to respond to all perceived threats with a Level 5 reaction, sending every one of us climbing the walls in surprise.  There’s nothing quite like the alarm bark of a large GSD to send you leaping into the air just as you were drifting off to sleep for a nap on the couch.  Thankfully, the new calm, assertive approach is paying off.  Consistency is key!

 

The girls are fed raw, and we feed them in turns.  First Arwen eats while Nyxie waits patiently in her crate.  When Arwen is done, which is uber-fast, Nyxie Noodle has her turn in the kitchen for dinner.  She gets so excited, she drools waiting for her bowl to be set down.  It’s positively adorable. 

Several days ago, we decided to order pizza for dinner.  As luck would have it, the doorbell rang just as Nyxie was leaning over her bowl to sink her chompers into her chicken.  Can you imagine what happened next, Gentle Readers?

A split second decision was made by my highly protective dog.  Nyxie came flying around the corner towards the front door, chicken thigh in her mouth.  She was growling, but not barking.  Clearly the level 5 threat of another day is merely a Level 0.5 when chicken is involved. 

Rationalizations. 

My dog is a genius!

Part V - Growing Up

Nyxie's awkward puppyhood seemed to be zooming past me at break-neck speed.  There were days that I'd look at her adoringly in the morning, then by evening, she'd look older.  I loved seeing her develop, but I also realized how much I was starting to miss that fat-bellied little pup who first came home with us.  She was becoming more agile, more able, even graceful.

Nyxie Noodle (One of our silly names for her - an offshoot of Noodle Cart Nyxie - don't ask, we're not really sure.) never had that super lanky, noodly GSD look, though.  And her ears stood pretty quickly on their own.  As she grew, she looked like a tiny version of what I see today.  A mini German Shepherd with fairly even proportions.  This was something we were surprised by after watching so many other GSD puppies go through the long legged, ears falling into themselves and every which way stage.  Unmistakable adolescence - you can see it a mile away.  We've been told this was due to her diet.  The raw diet being more appropriate for a dog, so therefore the stages of growth were more even.  Maybe this is a myth, but we saw it in action.  Her head, especially those enormous ears, and her paws were the things that stood out and gave us a hint as to her future stature.

In an effort to socialize this growing girl, and blow off puppy energy with zoomies, my friend Jamie and I had weekly play-dates with our pups at one of the Portland dog parks.  She would bring her delicate (but speedy) little Italian Greyhound, Vinnie.  And I would bring my clumsy little pup, eager for playtime in the grass rather than on pavement.  They were about the same size, and when Nyxie's excitement would get too much for Vinnie, he would let baby Nyx know in no uncertain terms.  Puppy Lesson # 3681 learned.  "THAT was too much bitey-mouth..."

Another good friend, Heather would occasionally bring along her Springer Spaniel, Napoleon, to these play-dates.  Poor Vinnie now had 2 wacky pups to contend with rather than the one.  Mostly, though, the 2 pups would entertain each other in a jumbled ball of puppy energy.  Colliding over and over, toppling clumsily into legs and fur, with tails, teeth and ears flying.  Dog park days were magical - there's nothing more joyful than watching puppies play.

The water bowl was in constant need of refilling.  Nyxie discovered the art of digging and loved the feel of the brown earth on her paws and nose.  We practiced recalls, sits, stays and walking heels off lead.  My little Nyxie blossomed!

Nyxie loved to tear around the wide open spaces and play chase with the other puppies.  If an adult dog chased her, she'd run until they overtook her, then she'd throw herself on her back and scream.  A long recall and a treat would usually snap her out of it.  Back she'd fly, her little puppy legs betraying her and sending her sprawling.  She'd bounce back up, shake it off and bound over to me.   She played well with Vinnie and Napoleon.  As always, she was loyal to her pack.   

On one such dog park trip, Nyxie went to hop back into Jamie's van and into her crate.  Her paw got stuck in the slats at the bottom of the crate door.  

She screamed.  I screamed.

She panicked.  I panicked.

Jamie calmly reached in, pulled her paw back and released her.  I cried like a weenie.  That's when I knew how deeply I was in love.  Like a mother whose child gets hurt for the 1st time, I felt her pain, her fear.  I'd have to learn to toughen up.  Nyxie shrugged it off, lay in her crate and sunk those puppy teeth into a big rubber ladybug that protested loudly with each chomp.

"I'm ok, mom, I've got this ladybug!"

We hadn't left the parking lot before she was fast asleep.  

Objects of Affection

My friend Robert sent me a text picture of his beautiful German Shorthair Pointer, Maggie, a few nights ago.  She is under a blankie with her paws wrapped around her Snoopy stuffed animal, one of Dad's favorites!  What a tender moment indeed.  This family is in need of peace this holiday season, with another of their canine pack ill.  The picture got me thinking about our own attachments, and what they signify in our lives.

When I was a young girl, I had many stuffed animals.  These were my toys of choice, valuing them above all others.  Some specific ones were even more valued, and I rarely parted ways with them if I could help it.  I assigned them feelings, clearly extensions of my own feelings.  I gave them "food" and "water" and lots of love.  Always treating them as though they were living, breathing beings needing care.  I had a great deal of empathy for them and was attached to them.  I remember my grandmother sewing me (by hand) a dress for my Monchichi doll (my absolute favorite) and then teaching me how to sew a second dress for her.  My father would tuck me into bed by "making them talk".  He would mimic their voices and they would show me the "Proper Way of Getting Into Bed".  Often I would foil his efforts and he would have to start over.  This was a fun game we played and I learned to look forward to bedtime.

As I grew, these stuffed animal attachments waned.  I brought home a hamster and then 2 cats of my very own that were far more interesting than any stuffed animal could ever be.  I was gentle and giving with these cats.  They could do no wrong in my eyes.  Were these the "stuffed animals" of my early childhood?  Was I already predisposed to loving animals from my earlier attachments?  Try not to laugh now - I still have 1 German Shepherd stuffie which I sleep with every night - "Puddles" as she remimds me of my 1st GSD, Tank,  that passed away years ago

The girls have favorite toys.  They will prance around with them and sometimes sleep with them, but mostly it's the waking hours that they'll seek them out.  Sometimes frozen in time, stuffed animal in her mouth, Nyxie will alert to some outside sound.  Her ears will cock and the fun of playtime is put on hold.  How heartwarming this is!  That split second between carefree fun and "PERIMETER ALERT!".

I'm glad that I haven't grown out of my attachments to animals.  It is part of my foundation, my fabric.  My Objects of Affection are very much real, and alive and I am thankful for them.

And after all this, I forgot to add the picture of Maggie with her Snoopy!!!  Here she is:

Hope

Hope is a forward-looking longing.  A moment to seek something beyond ourselves and to see it in a positive light.  I have the feeling that this coming year will bring change.  And I have hope that this change will be good, long-overdue change.  My blogs have been few and far between as of late, a symptom of my mood, I'm afraid.  Every time I've sat at this computer and decided to blog, I've had writer's block.  Not for a lack of trying, but nothing noteworthy has really happened.  Or so I've felt.  The routine has been monotonous and I've felt in a rut.  The girls have been doing fine, same routines as always, the kiddo's been mostly good and the job's the job.  So why discuss hope now?

I can't pinpoint exactly how things have already changed, although I know there's been a turning away from negativity.  There've been moments of despair and frustration, particularly involving Matty's work, T's behavior and the ever-heavy financial burdens that never seem to improve significantly.  All of these things, along with the negativity of several particular individuals has weighed heavily on me as of late.  What I've realized just recently is that it's not these influences that have become louder, but the amount of volume I've allowed them to have in my universe.

Each day, Arwen eats first.  A nod to her queen-bee status.  She is the Elder, the Deserving, the First.  Nyxie can't help but voice her displeasure.  She'll whine softly from the other room, impatiently awaiting her chance at yummies.  Arwen's focus is like an arrow knocked on me.  There exists nothing in her world save the singular (yet complicated) act of creating and serving her dinner.  Her blue eyes trained on me, watching my every move. There exists no whining, she is the only dog on the planet.  What I see in those ice blue eyes is hope and focus.  She has a goal and she will not stop until it's won.  Poor Nyxie in the other room, seemingly forgotten.  But she's far from forgotten.  Arwen is quite aware of her and if I were to bring Nyxie into the room, Arwen would shoulder her away and let her know in no uncertain terms that she is in the way!

There are goals that I've formed for the coming year.  Spiritual, professional and financial.  Like Arwen, I must have this singular focus.  There will be distractions, there might be negativity, but how much of this do I allow in?  Can I keep my eyes forward and shoulder away intrusions?  A born leader, Arwen's a great example.  Even the whining from the next room can be ignored.  I am looking forward, with the hope and focus of a Husky at dinnertime.  

Envy

I have a dirty little secret to confess...I have dog envy.  Not envy for different dogs in my life, but envy for dogs that I could take anywhere and introduce to anyone.  Dogs that like, no, love other dogs and people.  Arwen likes people, and only dogs she can dominate, but it's always a gamble with her.  Nyxie...well, you all know how well Nyxie plays with others.  She is coming around to the fact that all people are not murdering thieves bent on our pack's demise, but rather a signal for treats and yummy goodness!  In her deep chocolate eyes, dogs, are still not to be trusted.  In fact, her rule of thumb is to bark as menacingly and ferociously as possible to dispel these canine interlopers.  How dare they exist in her universe!!

Needless to say, going to the dogpark is an adventure of epic proportions.  One might ask - why bother?  Well, we don't have a yard of our own and after having taken Nyxie the week before last with no incident and actually enjoying my dog as other people can enjoy their dogs, I was again addicted.  I loved taking her when she was a wee pup and I miss those times spent with her running about, off the leash.  So I decided to try it with both girls -to give them a bit of much-needed run time.

Getting the 2-headed beast out the door and into the car is the first leg of my perilous journey.  They scramble for 1st out.  Nyxie will then conform to me, walking loosely while Arwen hurdles forward.  It must be quite the sight...I shudder the think about a dog or an unsuspecting squirrel dashing into view just as I'm reaching the car.  The trip to the park is heralded by panting - hot, wet panting.  Nose prints on every inch of glass, save the windshield, mark me as "that crazy dog lady".

Thankfully, the park is nearby, only a few miles from home and we pull into the parking lot.  I was hoping the threatening rain clouds would keep the regulars away, but no such luck.  There are several people lounging about on the benches, casually watching small dogs in sweaters sniff about the yard closest to the parking lot.  Now I understand using the closest yard (there are four separate areas) - after all, the point of going to the dogpark is to allow your dog to play with other dogs.  This assumption based of course on the premise that your dog is a well-socialized member of canine society.  I only hoped for a yard.  A fenced area in which they could run freely.  But to get to one of the unused yards, I would have to pass the closest one.

We decided to wait in the car.  There, Nyxie was fed treats when she stopped menacing the other dogs through the window and was able to sit quietly, albeit nervously in her seat.  A first step to safe exposure conditioning.  When the heat of the panting and the fading sun's rays was too much for a parked car, I left the lot and drove a few miles, allowing the girls to calm down after seeing all the canine excitement.  They must've thought I was cruel for not letting them play..."But mom - we just got here!!"

Just as I had hoped, the skies began to open and big drops fell hard.  "Yes!  Now I can go to the dogpark!"  Undoubtedly not what most dog parents say when the rain starts, but with my 2 miscreants, I have to be super careful.  Just as I suspected, everyone was clearing out.  All but one lady with a rather large Shar Pei mix in a far away yard.  Maybe we shared a dirty little secret...

Texas cold fronts move in fast, like within a half hour fast.  We arrived to rain, but temps in the 70's.  The clouds were rushing in and even the hawks flying above seemed eager for cover, giving up hopes of fat little chihuahua meals.  We made it to the farthest yard, I unleashed the beasties and they ran like the wind.  All their pent up energy and mine dissipating with the rain and clouds.  Their ears flapping, tails flying, legs pumping.  Grace and beauty unleashed!  My misfit dogs ran and ran, sniffed and read the signposts left by others before them.  After a short time, the rain fell heavier and the winds picked up.  Cooler now, bringing with them the expected cold front.  The temperature was dipping into the 60's.  The girls panted in tired relief, energy spent, tackles and bitey face over, they settled under the awning by the water fountain.  They were done.  No need to stay longer.

"No worries, mom!  We'll be back soon - when's it supposed to rain next?"  My girls are a work in progress.  They are slowly tolerating more and more out of their comfort zones.  They are evolving and growing, as I am, too.  I don't have dog envy...I have yard envy!!