The end of the year...and other things....

I have a dog.

As the vet so kindly put it, he has been "tutored", which is vet speak for neutered.

If you own a Golden Retriever and think that will calm him down, go ahead and keep thinking that. There are other good reasons for doing this, but that isn't really one of them.

We had a lot of fun with the plastic collar he had to wear for ten days, or as close to that as all concerned could bear. I ended up putting the second collar together with industrial staple, lots of them.
Oh yeah, Golden's, being puppies for a L...o...n...g... time, like to chew.

I'd like to meet that moron that just figured you would slip tab 'A' into slot 'B' of the plastic collar and the Golden would happily sit there and observe the process. Fat chance. The question becomes, from the dog's point of view, which part can I reach to chew and how fast can I do it?

End of the year, the end of his.... ah.... "tutoring process" didn't change a damn thing, other than appearance and capability wise.

I hasten to add, lest you get the wrong idea, he is a very sweet and loving dog. We also ended the year with a visit from the dog trainer to help my daughter control the dog. As those things go (if you are a husband you will know), it all turned out to be my fault. I spoil him and give him too much loving. I think she was in the Gestapo at one time. She is a very frightening lady.

I mean, you don't get a dog so you can ignore him and not pet him.... really! If that's what you want, go get a stuffed one on wheels with a pull cord, or a picture and hang it on the wall.

My daughters cry of "he licked me!" still echoes.... HE'S A DOG!!!!, you want to be ignored, get a cat.

My personal favorite of the first few days was, "Doesn't he warn you before he does that!!!!!???????" (he peed) and nope, pretty much it is a past tense sort of event.

He is a year old this December and we are looking forward to another year and possibly more of chewing and puppy behavior. Then he should mellow out a little (somewhat, kinda, more or less, as compared to...)

Seen "Marley and Me" yet? Don't.... if you ever plan to get a dog.

Then again, when he is laying in my lap (ankle to chin) and has his head up looking at me or is sleeping with his head over my arm... that's what it's all about.

Did I mention he has a fondness for chewing up mail?

I have a dog.

His name is Danny. He is a regular dog with a regular name and a huge heart.

Regards,

WebMouse

If only!

If only the president would consult me on national and foreign policy - he would sing my praise and admire my brilliance.

If only my children would do what I advised them to do... how wonderfully simple their worlds would be.

If only my wife had understood "NO DOG!", how simple life would be. Simple but missing something.

If only my dog understood pretty much any one of my commands. How shocked I would be. I take that back, he does understand them... he just doesn't always agree with me on their importance, or at least their immediate importance.

Danny definitely understands my commands, issued forth in a firm and manly voice, not a hint of pleading, thank you! Danny just has differing opinions about the reality of those commands as they conflict with his own desires and reality as he sees it.

If he is on his training collar, heel and sit and such, definately mean what I say they mean and no more perfect dog ever heeled. He will, in fact, heel to either side of me. He clearly understands the concept rather than just some dumb rote behavior.

"Come" is where we get to the sticking point. When he is in the mood he will come at a run and happily sit in from of me for either praise or treat.

When he is not in the mood and feels I am not really serious he will look at me and rush around in an excited manner to show me how important some other thing is that that silly "come" command. When the command escalates, as it has upon occasion, to "get your furry ass over here RIGHT NOW!!!" he tends to suddenly remember who is supposedly in change and with the grace of a crippled turtle will come. Sometimes back end first and circling but he will come. Then he is all apologetic and wants me to know he just didn't really understand that I was serious and if I had just been clearer he would surely have complied with my original command.

He is after all, my dog. I accordingly, am the Alpha Dog and therefore in charge.

Then we get to the case where he is roaming off leash and a little ways away from me. Normally he will come when called. If he is particularly interested in whatever he is smelling or hearing my calls, however worded, never seem to reach his ears. I know he would not willingly ignore me so it must be that my SCREAM does not carry well. hmmmmm.

He will, when he gets closer, or the spirit moves him, come running to me as if to say, "are you OK? I was busy but thought I should check in on you. I love you master!!!!"

This possibly crazy dog trainer I have been using seems to be of the opinion that if your dog loves you more than anything in the world, he will come when ever you call. No matter WHAT.

Yeah.... right......

She has been dealing off the bottom and working with dogs that must not have developed character and personality and an independent mind. I don't care how much you dog starts out loving you, after a while they figure out that they have preferences and desires and they are important too. After you have called said dog for the umpteenth time and he has slavishly run to you and you have praised and pet him and told him how wonderful he is he will begin to connect that getting put in the kennel right after than and abandoned for hours is not what he had in mind.
Not at ALL.

OK.... now how do you jump from a dog that runs to you just because you called and one that has decided that what happens after that is not as much fun as what he was doing. Assuming he remembers what he was doing. There is some doubt on that part.

Danny is a wonderful dog but really high energy and loves to meet new people and play. If you've been gone more than a few hours, you qualify as new people. If he is awake, it is time to play. Pretty simple. Just like toys. If it fits in his mouth, it is a potential toy. If he chews on it, it definitely is his toy. That last is quite clear as a dog chewed and slobbered item is unfit for any other purpose.

He just passed his first birthday and got neutered as a present.

Think about it. "Come Danny" snip.... snip.... 10 days of not much fun and a really pain in the ass plastic collar to prevent him from licking the place that needs licking.

Now go and try "Come Danny".... I think the translated dog thought is "In your dreams!"

We have one to one and a half years of puppy hood left. At best.

Good thing he is born with the ultimate "suck up" gene. He can melt your heart between beats.

A dog sleeping in your lap with his head on your chest in ultimate trust is not a thing to be lightly changed. You as the human, better have a damn good reason for disturbing that dog. He will forgive you. You will find it harder and harder to justify personally.

You are being taught peace and love. Learn the lesson well.

Regards,
Webmouse

"Tutored"

Danny had his first birthday yesterday.

Last week he got "tutored" which is PC for neutered.

He REALLY hated that plastic collar they made him wear to keep him from pulling out his stitches.
He chewed the heck out of the first one in 3 days of the 10 day period he was supposed to wear one. We got a second one and I REALLY fastened all lose edges down with industrial staples. I thought we we secure. Minor nibbling but good good.

Day 8.... Took him out of his kennel in the morning to take him outdoors for the doggies thing but checked his stitches first. They were gone. So much for a collar.

The vet said as long as the incision was staying closed and there was no sign of infection just leave him alone but take off the collar. That was one very happy dog.

Happy owners too. He had got enough used to the collar that he was constantly running into things (us mostly) with the edge. 65lb dog... you do the math!

He sure needs exercise, if he doesn't get it, he gets "wild" and can't figure which end is up and is really a pain in the butt. Take him out for a long walk and he is gold. Golden Retriever, that is. Not one of those blond imitations, a real red-gold, curly haired super friendly dog. With definite opinions on things. As in, when he goes out, when he comes back, and what he does in between. A trainer said I spoiled him. I answered "yeah, and your point is?"

I like to think we are most truly seen how we treat our animals. As you can see above, he suffers greatly. The blue is one knee of my jeans.

Do Dogs go to Heaven?

The question sort of popped up one day.

I caught my dog praying.

I started to wonder who he was praying to.

Then, I thought about pets going to heaven.

Dogs and cats and maybe birds... OK.... Snakes and Spiders and Lizards.... ah... problem there.

I am impressed by my dog's praying. He goes the whole mile.
He's flat on his back in a position of total submission with his front paws touching and stretched out over his head. He does appear to be sleeping but I am sure he is praying.

I did sort of wonder what he was praying for, and a little bit about what he visualizes God to be.
I also wondered what God might smell like to a dog. Bacon? I'm going with the smell of the fresh air after a light rain. Danny really seems to enjoy sniffing the air then. Even to my pitiful human nose, it smells great.

I've never seen my cats look anything like they were praying. They might be on a more equal footing and consider it normal conversation. Cat's are like that. Loving, friendly and caring... they do all those. Worshipful... ah... not so much.

You have to have a dog to see worship. You can be a real moron and a jerk but when your dog looks at you.... well.... you should be paying attention and giving that look a lot of thought.

I have a dog.

He teaches me things.


Regards,
WebMouse

Potential marketable product idea

I have a dog.

The dog produces... well.... "product" (different that that referred to in the title).

I bought a clever device that you dig a fairly deep hole in the ground for and then plunk this thing in the top of sort of like a lid for the hole with a reservoir at the top. It is essentially sort of septic tank for... "product". I guess it works. Not much fun though.

There are time that I just take the dog doo (yes, less polite... live with it!) on the shovel and fling it down the steep hillside where we live. I own 16 acres here so that's my choice. That got me to thinking about how much my action was like the action of a catapult (poop-a-pult?) and then got thinking of the Trebuchet (like a catapult only better) and wondered what sort of range I could get with one.

I might, I pondered, sitting in the swing and enjoying the evening, be able to hit the mud flats of the bay at the bottom of the hill. That would be very "green" I thought. Put the "pooh" in the mud and let the bugs get it. There is a road along the bay edge at the bottom of the hill so that presents a problem. Miss the bay and things could get sort of "out of hand". I reasoned that if I was careful and there were no cars coming it wouldn't be catastrophic. Still.....

Then it hit me... this could be a product to sell through EBay!!!! The "poop-a-pult"! Think of the advertising lines....

"Does your neighbors dog poop in your yard? Return the "gift" to the top of the neighbors roof! Even if the neighbor lives a few houses away!"

There are some technical problems to work out but I may be on to something here. I would have to carefully word the disclaimer to be sure people knew this was only a "fully functional conversation piece" and not intended to actually be used.

They are pretty silent. You could fling paint balls. It would be damn hard to tell where the "material" came from, as it would be falling pretty much straight down.

I could make them out of some nice hardwood and varnish it all up. It would look pretty slick!

The shovel works well enough when I feel like it and "doggie doo" device seems ok. There's too many complicated factors on the Trebuchet. Fun to think of though.

I have a dog.

We each have our jobs.

Regards,
WebMouse

Tail of the Dead Bird

I have a dog.

When running off the leash around the yard he seems to have an overdrive gear.

I saw the blur of my Golden Retriever going by on the little hill by the driveway and noted that a bright RED blur had become attached to his mouth.

While not exactly sedate when playing fetch in the backyard dog run, he is capable of quite exceptional speed when loose. Those long legs of his eat up ground in a hurry.

Ah... the red thing. Yes... it was, sadly, a dead "Red Cardinal". Fortunately it was a wood yard ornament. One of those things that is supposed to turn into the wind and the wings go in a circle. It had seen better days although it's bright red paint was still proud. It had rested on that hillside on a metal stake for 3 years.
It was gone in a fraction of a second. A blur of a moment.

By the time I realized what was missing from the hill side, Danny way long and gone. I found him in the backyard chewing of what was left of the poor bird.

I had found wing material scattered on the way and he was down to the "meat' of he bird. He gave the bird up, more or less readily. (we are still working on that "drop it" command!)
The missing parts of the bird will probably "show up" tomorrow. The polite term is "scat". "Poop" as Oprah Winfrey calls it, blushingly. Dr. Oz is more matter of fact on the subject and not embarrassed at all. It is, after all, a strange aspect of society that it is excluded petty much from all discussion.

I was out walking Danny a day or two ago and came across two piles of "bear scat". Now, that is a subject I would appreciate being mentioned and not excluded from common conversation. Sort of nice to know who is in the neighborhood.

I live in the forest and am not big on surprises. We also have Elk, Bobcat, Cougar, and deer. Any of which can flat ruin your day. I believe there is only one black bear in the area.

I used to live in Alaska and you were considered a total idiot if you went out in the woods (out of town) and weren't packing the best gun you could carry and use. It didn't matter if it was hunting season or not. If you were off the road, carry a big gun and know how to use it. That "use" part is pretty important.

Dead trees or holes in the sky don't impress bears, or moose.

Back to the dog...

I own a dog.

Dogs have an interesting set of behaviors around bears, They will generally bark and chase the bear... sounds good, right?
The bear eventually gets pissed and goes after the dog. Guess where the dog goes! Where it is safe naturally, right behind you!!!

Now instead of a calm bear just plodding along, minding his own business, as they generally are doing... You now have one pissed off bear at full speed aimed right at you. There was more than one tourist in Alaska that learned he should have left his yapping little mutt at home.

The ONLY good thing here is that a bear will generally maul you and keep on going. Not that the mauling thing is fun, but it is survivable. Remember, you are only incidental and an object to be run over. Moose or bear, same thing.

I have a dog.

I live in the woods.

My dog's excursions off the leash are kept very short and very local and mid day. (wild animals generally sleep during the day - if they have read the rules anyway).

Gun theory is a BIG shotgun with slugs or "00" buckshot. That related to accuracy being VERY problematic when you are VERY scared.

Second choice is the biggest damn handgun you can find. This relates to the fact that the shotgun is heavy and you will put it down, and the fickle finger of fate being what it is, the bear will be between you and your shotgun resting safely against a tree. Trust me, seen it happen and watched a fisherman wade a very fast and very cold glacial stream to put distance between him and a bear.

Which brings us to sheer craven cowardice being often the better part of valor. Very often...
That, plus bells on your boots, whistling, singing very loud and talking to yourself.

I am fortunate, Danny won't even chase a deer.

I have also found day beds from bears in the blackberry thickets where I go to pick berries. Down my neighbors driveway.

This isn't Alaska. Wear a big chunk of pistol and you get some really strange looks. In Alaska only the Tourists would look at you. Now if you were downtown, that was different.

Things are a bit different in the tree hugging, save our wildlife state of Oregon. I think if I paint the bullets green they will be ok though. I probably should check on that.

I have a dog. He is a very fast dog.

Regards,

WevMouse

The SPF of a dog lick

I have a dog.

My dog licks me.

He likes to lick the top of my head when we are sitting on the outside swing. Go figure.

It occurred to me that a dog lick (nice way to say dog spit) might have some SPF value. I googled the subject and there evidently has not been any research done on this subject.

There could be some grant money laying around for this. Never know. The government funds stranger research studies.

I can report, anecdotaly, that since Danny has been licking my head when we are out in the sun, I have not had a sunburn on my mainly bald head.

I do live in Oregon though.

That might have something to do with the lack of sunburn.

I used to live in southern California. I often got sunburns.

I would rather have dog spit on my head than move back to "Sunny Southern California"!!!

Regards,
WebMouse

Paw Bowls

I have a dog.

He uses a "paw bowl"

I never knew how elegant my dog was until I observed him using his water dish as a finger bowl.
He would very carefully place one front paw in his water dish and then do the same with the other front paw.

Now, "elegant" may be a stretch as that is the same bowl that he drinks out of but then again there is the obvious attempt at clean paws.

About the "clean paws" thing... my back door has dirt from his paws when he was out in wet weather and digging so ground into it that it will not clean. It's either sand blast (steel door) or repaint.
I already checked with a local sheet metal shop about getting a piece of stainless bent to cover the wooden door jamb that he has clawed up so bad. I was trying to describe what I wanted and they started laughing. They said it was a common request for people with big dogs. That was supposed to make me feel better. hmmmmm.

I'm going with stainless steel. Aluminum is too soft, he would probably claw it up or eat it.

So...

I have a dog.

He uses a "paw bowl" to clean his paws.

One should probably not draw any conclusions from that act.

Regards,

WebMouse

Dog Run... Construction Advice

I have a dog

I built my dog a nice dog run.

It's a very large rectangle.... well, one end is a little narrower than the other.

Strong suggestion if you are going to build one. Make it so one end is MUCH narrower than the other.

When (and it WILL happen) your dog absolutely refuses to come to you or do anything you want him to do, you have to catch him. This is where the "run" part of "dog run" comes in.
I do, upon occasion, seem to get more exercise than other times.

My dog is VERY fast and can laugh while running at full speed.

It sort of works, sometimes, if I sit down and point at the ground and tell him to get his furry butt over HERE right NOW. I'm doing a little better than 50% at that so "it sort of works".

I know he can hear me because I cleaned his ears this morning and when I call him he looks at me with a "yeah, sure.... like that's going to happen!" look that is unmistakable. He then goes back to chewing whatever he has which may be anything from an actual chew toy to most anything at all including rocks. I can't even try to explain that part.

Regards,
WebMouse

Gardening Dog

I have a dog.

I have learned that he has heretofore undiscovered talents.

I was digging patches of grass and clumps of weeds out of the back yard gravel path and Danny showed these new skills.

When you dig up a clump of something it is normal to shake out the good topsoil before you throw the weeds or grass clump away.

My dog is absolutely wonderful at this "shake the dirt out" process... well... maybe not perfect, he won't pile up the green parts. They sort of get scattered.

I'm sure he thinks it's some sort of game but it works for me. I just have to be careful to not let him know it's work.

I have a dog.

I shovel the weeds out.

He shakes the dirt out.

The work gets done.

Oh yeah, after... I go around after and rake up the green parts.

It's actually a fair division of labor. I'm tall and work from the end of a shovel or rake. He's short and does the "ground level" work.

It works.

WebMouse

Helthf... hi thungue ith thuck!

I have a dog

My dog lick all sorts of things, including me.

Sometimes his tongue gets stuck.

Now... we are not talking about what happens when you take a finger tip with a gob of creamy peanut butter on it and stick it on the roof of his mouth just behind his front teeth. That is entirely different. Funny, but different.

My Golden Retriever, Danny, is going on 7 months now. Picture that long tongue stuck way out of his mouth, wrapped around the tip of his lower jaw and sandwiched back against the bottom of his lower jaw and the thing he is licking.

It may be a Geko lizard phenomenon. You know how their feet stick to smooth surfaces and they sort of peel them off. It's why they don't fall off the ceiling.

Danny will be busy licking me, my shirt, the arm of my chair or some such place and all of a sudden his tongue is stuck... evidently... since he remains in that tongue sandwich position for quite some time and looks at me like he is asking for help.

Maybe it's some sort of hyper-extension thing going on and his tongue gets stuck past the "return point". Fishing reels do that. Usually accompanied by a great knot of line that magically appears.

I've had a lawn mower do it too. Pull the cord too far and it won't reel back in. Could be like that.

All you have to do is lift his chin a tiny bit and the tongue pops right back... more or less. It does sort of hang out the side sometimes.

He never seems in pain so it's probably not a "tongue cramp". "Tired Tongue Syndrome" possibly. Syndrome is a nice useful word. Doctors use it when they have no freaking idea what the problem is. Doctors also use "Idiopathic" sometimes. I translate that as an idiots pathetic attempt to explain something they have no clue about.

I'm not too sure about TTS (Tired Tongue Syndrome), all you have to do is sort of kick start the licking process and he is right back at it. Just move the jaw a tiny bit or what ever is being licked and the licking motor in there takes right off again.

I am VERY glad he is not a cat. That size tongue applied as thoroughly as he does would be stripping meat from my arm in no time. I got licked by a Cougar one time and that is some serious licking. Believe me! She was a friendly adult but that was still one heck of a lick.

Danny's licks are worth restarting.

He cleaned my dinner off my T-shirt tonight. The shirt is good for another day now.

You know, maybe the licking thing is so good he is just "stopping in place" to "enjoy the lick".

Could be!

He won't tell. He's only a dog you know!

I have a dog whose "licker" sometimes gets stuck.

No problem.


Regards,
WebMouse

Dirty Humanity

I have a dog.

I am a dirty human. (no worse than you, so sit back down and calm down!)

That seems, at least, to be the opinion of my dog. He really gets into licking me "clean". I don't necessarily feel or appear cleaner but then again... he does very well on upholstery!

He is well fed so it is not residual "food" particles on my hands. Certainly not on my ears... at least I hope not! Spaghetti is sort of an "iffy" food. It can get most anywhere.

Danny is a Golden Retriever and is not one of those drooling, slobbering dogs that leaves a trail like a snail around the house. oh... we do NOT keep pet snails, that was an example only!

Mostly he licks my hands and wrists. They would be the parts most likely to need cleaning. I do wash my hands but I notice the licking is much more intense after I have been cooking or handling food. Residuals, I guess. Sort of like the music industry. The RIAA is one greedy, crumb sucking dog!... Not that I have an opinion, one way or the other.

Back to the licking issue. I do find it strange that a dog, given it's own sanitary habits, has the nerve to imply that a human needs cleaning.

We shouldn't go into the thought process in the human either. The term is cognitive dissonance. That's where you know something to be true but behave as though it were not. Smoking is one example, and a potentially lethal one.

Getting licked by a dog tongue is not lethal but... well... we really do not want to get into that discussion. Those of us with "dognative dissonance" do not like to have that particular issue brought up.


I am human. (honest!)

On Sundays I go to church.

The rest of the week.... well...

I have a dog.

It all works out.

Regards,
WebMouse

Of Dogs and Frogs

Folk wisdom has it that you can "hypnotize" a frog by turning it on it's back an stroking it's tummy.

I never actually verified that bit of wisdom.

I have a dog.

I don't have a frog.

I will verify that if you can get the dog to lay on his back and you gently stroke his tummy he apparently gets hypnotized. At least, he sure won't move while you are rubbing his tummy. He seems to pass into more of a "stupor" than actually be "hypnotized". He seems to remain conscious to some degree. Not really a dignified state though. He mouth is hanging open and his tongue hanging out. The eyes are somewhat rolled back in his head.

I really don't know what you call the "state of consciousness" that Danny attains. Might be "Zen".

I would ask my wife to try it on me, but you look pretty stupid with your tongue hanging out so I think I will pass on this. My own "Zen" state much resembles a "nap" and I learned the skill from my cats. Cats are very "Zen". Dogs are more "Frog".

They don't hop (usually) and I've never heard a "ribbit" out of Danny but the tummy thing seems to work.

Regards,
WebMouse

Ouch!!! Dammit!

I have a dog.

We play.

He has LOTS of BIG teeth.

OUCH!!! followed closely by Dammit!!!

I know he is playing and either misses what he is aiming at or just gets carried away... I'm pretty sure anyway. I mean... he could be sneaking in a little nip here and there just to pay me back for his "Cujo Timeout" or for some other offense. I hear Wolves are that way. They hold grudges. I knew a keeper at a wolf sanctuary and said if one of them got pissed off they might 'lay back' a couple days and sort of mull it over and then bite you a couple days later when you didn't expect it. hmmmm.......

Danny has his moments. We call them "Cujo Time" when he gets aggressive. We put him in his kennel and throw a sheet over him and let him stew until he calms down.

Did you ever know that a dog can "cuss". Now... I don't speak dog but I'm SURE what he is saying is not nice. He doesn't growl... it's more a mumble and some almost subvocal sounds that I would call grumbling except that I am pretty sure they are some very nasty words in "dog".

After his "time out", he is once again a sweet and loving dog and wouldn't even think of complaining (until next time) and is happy with the attention he gets and would never bite. I mean...my wife can reach part way down his throat to retrieve a cat toy (he likes to "borrow" the cat's toys).

I'm a little worried about my wife. She's not really tall or strong so her hands end up in the "play zone".

You also have to be able to sort of 'anticipate' where his mouth is going to be going next. He is focusing on the target toy so fingers or hands in the way are just that... in the way. Your problem.

"Cujo Time" is when he is aiming for the hand and there is no toy there. The hand has become the toy. You REALLY don't want that, he won't break the skin but it can cause the exclamation "Ouch!!! Dammit!!, hence the article title.

That often causes him to roll on his back and present his belly in submission and apology. That and/or "dribble" on the carpet. There is no doubt he knows that was a no-no but... he was just playing... got confused... what's a guy to do?

I have learned, actually repeatedly (hmmmm...) that it takes restraint to love him up and let him know he is OK while you are checking to see if there is blood flowing!

I also realized that I am getting older and older skin is thinner. Another nasty lesson!

I'd ask "will it never end?" but I'm not that stupid. That one I know the answer to. That would definitely be a "Duh!"

I have a dog.

We interact.

"Love Hurts" is a 60's song played by most everyone at one time or another.

I like those 60's songs. I can sing with them (in the shower), understand the words, am not embarrassed to say the words, and my wife won't smack me upside the head if I sing them... she will probably put on headphones and listen to real music but then... I would too if I had to hear me. You never sound as bad to yourself as you do to other people. There's a special filter in your brain that lies to you about what you sound like. As long as you know it's there, you're ok. Forget it, and like as not you will do something stupid and NO ONE will ever let you forget it.

Unfortunately, people that like 60's music often have physically thin skin. We're old, it goes with the territory!

WebMouse

Out, out, damned spot!

I have a dog.

His name is NOT "spot", but it does sort of apply.

Have you ever had a Golden Retriever lick you? For some reason, and I don't know if it is unique to the breed, when they are done licking you are not all slobbered up and yucky! It's clean and fairly dry.

Now... we won't go into all the things that a dog will lick.... definitely!

Danny (my dog) licks lots of things. He will lick up cat food barf off the carpet and he does as good a job as my "spot cleaner". Pretty nifty.

Surprisingly, he is also good on upholstery! He will sit in my lap (that in itself is another story as he is a BIG dog) on my favorite chair. It's a big Lazy Boy recliner. The fabric on the ends of the arms gets sweat and yuck from my hands. I tried my nifty electric "green machine" to clean them with upholstery cleaner and it worked fairly well.
Then... one time Danny started licking the chair arm... I have no idea what the flavor was, but the chair arm ended up clean and only very slightly damp. Less damp even than when I used the upholstery cleaner!

This is about the strangest and most unexpected thing about my dog so far. I am sure there are more surprises in store. As surprises go, this was fairly benign. Slightly gross, but... works for me and and dog and the cats don't seem to care so...

WebMouse

I don't have a pickup truck!

I have a dog.

I also have a full compliment of guns.

I wear plaid wool shirts and jeans.

I'm a dang good shot. I hit what I aim at and I eat what I shoot... 'cept for trespassers. They're too hard to clean, you just bury them and move on. Damn waste of ammo.

The only thing that keeps me from being considered a red neck is the lack of a pickup truck. Nor do I want a pickup truck. Very much.

I do have an SUV, but it's a Buick and not a Ford or Chevy. They could be considered pickup truck 'like'.

It all started with the dog.

My wife won't let me even look at pickup trucks now. Of course, needing her to 'let' me look at a truck makes me a wuss and totally disqualifies me from "redneck-dom".

This is actually quite OK with me. I assume my dog is OK with it too, he hasn't complained... Too much...

My wife loves me.

I have a dog.

Wool shirts are warm.

Life is good.

Regards,
WebMouse

A 55 lb. Letter Opener

I have a 55 lb. letter opener with delivery capabilities. No, it is not for really large packages, however it is a "self powered" letter opener! It runs on dog treats.

Specifically, it is willing to open a letter and then deliver it to you in return for a dog treat. "Return" being a nice way of saying "spit it out". The "deliver" capability (willingness) depends on said dog treat being visible.

It doesn't do requests. Selection of which mail gets opened is pretty much random or a matter of access. Very fast access! Very, very fast.

I have a dog.

I get letters (mostly junk mail actually).

My dog weighs about 55 lbs. (at the moment - if you are a slow reader, adjust the figure upward)

He is VERY fast when it comes to snagging one piece of mail out of a stack.

He WILL trade a partially masticated.... er...."opened" letter, for a dog treat.

Like I said, a 55 lb letter opener. Puppy power!

I think it may be the glue, I'm pretty sure he can't read and judging from what he picks to "open", he has no specific "taste" or agenda in selecting the mail. Opportunity is all!

I think he has lost all the puppy teeth and the adult teeth are coming in... and in... and in... That is a real mouth full of teeth he is growing. They could be a little scary if he wasn't such a pussy cat. Still, that is one heck of a letter opening facility there!

I've seen a special paper "stapler" that just punches out paper tabs and folds them back on themselves. A "staple-less" paper stapler. Pretty clever. I wonder... (once his canines grow in) if he can be taught to.... nah... I don't need a paper stapler anyway.

Now maybe a paper shredder and disposal... there is something to be said for that idea. Nothing fit to describe in detail here, but it does work! The less said about that process, end to end (not to put too fine a point on it), the better.

Regards,
WebMouse

A Guy Thing

I'm a guy.

I do "guy things".

One of those "guy things" is the response to a "rail". A guy sees a rail, he has to lean on it and "ponder".

I was on the back porch of our house, leaning on the rail, looking off into the distance across the bay and "pondering".

Someone came up to the rail and leaned on it next to me.

I have a dog.

It was the dog. He is pretty big and getting bigger but there he was, standing at the rail with his front paws on it and looking out into the distance. He looked like he was "pondering". I just let him be. That's a guy thing too.

I do have some worries about him though. He likes to grab envelopes and run off with them. He grabbed my voting ballot and ran off. I got it back as quick as I could... I had to!... I think he's a Republican!

Or maybe one of those damn Libertarians... I mean... he just pee's and poop's where ever he feels like so... what else would be be other than Republican or Libertarian?
He never goes after my wallet when he sniffs my.... ah... well anyway... I don't think he's a Democrat either.
I'm pretty sure he's an Independent.
Fortunately, he's not registered to vote. At least, I don't think so.

I have a dog. He's getting pretty big.


Regards,
WebMouse

Doggie Treats

What's in a name? You sure don't want to read the list of ingredients on most doggie treats. Some are better than others.

Personally, good old MilkBone dog biscuits are pretty good. My dog agrees.

I have a dog.

I give my dog "treats". We both think the MilkBone treats are ok but some of the others taste like dry particle board. I assume. Something on the flavor quality of Banana flavored Popsicles... or banana flavored anything other than bananas. IMHO of course. I am sure there are things that are even worse. Then, chocolate and peanut butter is an obscenity in my mind. I like both of them, they just don't belong together. I don't know what is in that peanut butter cup but it sure isn't peanut butter! I'd rather eat a Twinkie! Ding Dong's now are... ah yes, dog treats....

Other doggie treats are so artificial in flavoring that I am surprised he will eat them... but then... we know where dogs lick. A true dog lover is someone who knows the answer to that and enjoys a good lick on the ear from his dog... and one who does not immediately run for the wash basin or the shower.


I picked up a habit from my maternal grandfather of eating an apple by paring off thin slices and eating the slices as I cut them off the apple. Danny gets the core pieces and, truth be told, an occasional slice.
If I am eating a carrot, he gets a chunk.
If I am eating a slice of bread with peanut butter on it I have been known to wipe a little finger full on the roof of his mouth. That is both treat and humor. He gets back at me by taking a bite out of my slice of bread and peanut butter... which slice automatically then becomes his. (I love dogs... but there is a limit!) He, wisely, prefers to lick the peanut butter from the bread.

I have a dog.

He gets treats and has turned the process into a con game.

I have a dog. I didn't say I was smart. It may be safe to say that I am a 'soft touch'. Don't let it get around. I have a reputation and Danny does not want the competition.


Regards,
WebMouse

Danger - Construction Zone!

Imagine a can of paint.

Imagine setting a brush across the top of that can for just a second.

Imagine that brush then flying around the yard.

I have a dog.

The can of paint was not open yet and there was no paint on the brush... but the brush handle was "textured" before I managed to get it back.

Lesson: In an area where you plan on doing almost any sort of work (other than poop scooping), it is imperative that there NOT be a dog there.

This is especially true if you plan on digging anything as this gets you into a union confrontation with the Dog Diggers of America and you really don't want to go there.

I will leave it to your imagination about trying to paint anything with a dog around.

In case you wondered, putting new dirt or sand in an area and then planning (I repeat..'planning') to rake it smooth... again... NO DOG!

Construction involving ANY took small enough to get swiped by a large dog is also not advised.

When the place you are working in is, in fact, the "dog run" then work must progress quickly that you may return the area to the original owner as fast as possible.
There are a few simple rules:

1. No dog present while working... NEVER!!!
   
2. If you want it to stay in place.... nail it down
3. If you do not want holes in it.... concrete it over.
4. If you want to paint it... use quick drying paint.
5. When kneeling down to work on something... look first.
6. If you are building something... do not make it fragile.
7. Above all else... maintain a sense of humor!
8. Don't even think of planting anything... if grass grows... consider it a miracle and enjoy it.
9. Live by the prayer that ends with "... and the wisdom to know the difference." You life will be much more pleasant! Trust me on this one.
10. When done, scour the area (several times) for tools and bits and pieces you have left around. Your dog WILL find them and eat them!
11. When you finally are done and let the dog back into the dog run... go take the tool away from the dog that you forgot about. There WILL be one and he WILL have it. Please refer to the dog game of "keep-away" in this matter.
    

I have a dog.

I like to build things.

I don't mix the two and I am much happier for it.

Regards,
WebMouse

Lap Dog

It's all in the definition. Well... and who is defining it!

I have a dog.

My version is that if he doesn't fit on my lap, he is not a lap dog. My lap is not small. (no snickers please!)

His (Danny) version seems to be "any part of me on any part of you makes me a lap dog".

It's the "any part" that we disagree on. I can sort of see his argument when he sits next to me and lays his head on my lap and looks at me with those big soulful brown eyes. I give!

If I put up the leg support on my Lazyboy (AKA Dog Chair) he figures that means I have expanded my "lap" and it's fair game. I admit (grudgingly) to liking him on my lap. He is a beautiful dog and there is just something about a dog in your lap that makes the world a little nicer place.

We have a swing set outside (couch on A frame essentially) and he has different rules there. That is pretty much an "anything I can get away with" location. It starts when he jumps up on the swing/glider and sits next to me. Then he gets all "chummy" and starts moving into my territory. Next thing I know, he has defined "lap" as any part or parts of my body that he can get himself on. Chest, shoulders, head, back.....

In case you ever consider it, do NOT try to lay down in one of those swings and take a nap. Your whole body then becomes a lap and he "jumps for it"... literally. Surprise! is an understatement. Warm sun, eyes closed, relaxed, gentle swinging motion... 50 lbs of dog lands... ah.... on you. Lands... not steps gently onto you, LANDS on you from a jump from who knows how far away. It felt like he started his run from the other end of the yard and went for an Olympic gold medal, in the running broad jump.

I have a dog.

We play 'fetch' also. There too he has his own rules. These rules allow throwing a 'body block' on the 'thrower' by the 'throwee' on the return of the 'thrown'.
Right now at 50 lbs or so, that is one thing. When he gets full grown, that will be something else entirely. We're talking X-Sport level action. I may have to wear protective gear.

He may figure he gets points for "taking out" the 'thrower'.
Personally, I penalize him points every time he drops the 'thrown' on the way back to the 'thrower'. A three point penalty on the return journey is not uncommon. It's the excitement. He also loses a point for overshooting the target object. I'm not sure dog's can count so this may be a futile exercise. The Canine numbering system seems to consist of "one" and "another". Actually, for his purpose, that probably works pretty well. It sure eliminates all that nasty math stuff!

I have a dog.

It's not just a job, it's an adventure! (or was that a Navy ad?)

Regards,
WebMouse

Honey - someone shrunk the cat!

It's all a matter of perspective.

I have four Tonkinese cats. They are wonderful animals. The largest one, a male, is 11 lbs. The other three are about 7 - 8 lbs each.

I was peacefully sitting on.... ah... in private... and one of the younger cats came in to get his share of "appreciation" and I picked him up and was startled how small he was.

I have a dog.

He weighs 50 lbs now at just over 5 months.

The cat had not been shrunk. It's all a matter of perspective. My perspective had been changed and I hadn't realized it had happened. I was amazed at how tiny and fragile the cat was. The cat got his full share of appreciation and departed happy.

There are cat imposed time limits on "appreciation". I think that they figure if they let you have too much, you may get accustomed to it and not appreciate them so much. Good theory.

I have a dog.

The dog operates on the "no limit" approach to appreciation. Unless they have to go pee, they will sit or lay there as long as you will pet them. They will even fall asleep while you pet them.

They don't purr though.

If someone bred a dog that used a toilet and flushed it, purred, washed itself, was hypoallergenic, and smelled like flowers when it got wet... I think there would be a market there.
Until that wonderful day... get a couple of cats, a great dog, learn to live with the smell of wet dog, and pray you don't suffer from allergies. See how easy it is?

The upside is that you always have an affectionate living creature ready to show you that you are wonderful and just your touch makes them feel loved and secure. Well... the dog much more so than the cats, but it all evens out. Someday.

I have a dog...

Regards,
WebMouse

Tivo Remote

I have a dog.

It has not escaped his attention that the Tivo remote looks a lot like a dog bone.

That pretty much says it all.

Regards,
WebMouse

Dogs have two brains

Unfortunately, one is in their butt.

When I tell Danny to "sit", you can see that his face understands the command but the other end hasn't got the message yet and it takes a few seconds before the "sit" occurs.
There is also the other end (no pun intended but it is funny!) of the situation where I will wake Danny up to go out and pee for the last time that night before I go to bed. His head is all in agreement with getting up and is eager to comply but that other brain at the back is still asleep and it takes a while before it "wakes up" enough to actually "get up". The front end is sitting up and awake and eager to please. The back end is not even moving yet.

The side effect of this is that you need to make sure you have the attention of the correct brain when you give a command. You may have heard the expression "talk to the hand"... well... if you don't see the dog's eyes looking at you, you are probably talking to the butt. The "butt brain" has a rather different outlook on the world and is understandably quite limited in capability.

This is probably the reason so many people have trouble training their dogs. They're talking to the wrong end.

When you add in the factor that we are not talking about the brain of a genius anyway, or even that of a smart kid, you really better make sure you are talking to the right end!

This physical condition may explain why small dogs are so nervous and yappy. Their two brains are too close together and they get into a feedback loop that results in pure static (which we all know is random noise) circulating between the two brains and this dives the unfortunate small animal to extremes of behavior. We've all seen the poor little creatures bouncing up and down and yapping their little heads off. That's it, a static feedback loop between the two brains.

Optimal size for a dog, such that this condition does not occur, is probably in the range of 18 inches or more from head to butt. Keep this in mind when you pick out a dog.

There may be some upper end issues also. If you have a really large dog, communications signals may deteriorate due to the long path. This may explain why some dogs chase their tails. The front brain thinks the tail belongs to another creature because it has lost communication with the butt brain.

This two brain thing may explain a lot.

I have a dog.

He has optimal brain separation.

Regards,
WebMouse

47 is Half Way

I have a dog.

He now weighs 47 pounds at 5 months.

We just got his, more or less, final shots at the vets. The vet assured me he is doing wonderfully and should double in weight as an adult. I guess that was good news. He also told me about this English Mastiff that weighed 24o lbs. It makes 90 lbs somehow more "reasonable".

Just because he is half way in weight to his adult weight does NOT mean he is half way there in time. He is probably a little less than a third of the way down that path.

The vet said Danny is in perfect health and very well mannered and socialized. He was impressed at how calm and unafraid Danny was of the vet experience. Wow... too bad I can't take credit for much of that. Feed the dog, scoop the poop. The rest was up to him.

I also have been asking about his "Cujo Time". Answers range from "he's a puppy and will grow out of it" to a big grin and suggestions on how to "work with him".

I also got the recommendation to "put him in his kennel, throw a sheet over it and don't let him out until he calms down." I'm going with that recommendation.

Oh yeah, the vet asked if he was "lifting his leg yet". I thought that was a rather personal question but a vet is a doctor so I told him that yes, he was. It seems that this behavior is an indicator that his neural circuits are getting wired as an adult and that this is all required before he gets neutered. Don't let that get around, Danny doesn't know about that part yet. The vet said with dogs this size, they usually wait until he reaches about a year old. I wish this "size" word wasn't popping up so often. It is a bit intimidating. It think he is quite a nice size right now.

I console myself that I didn't get an English Mastiff.

The vet said to keep him on puppy chow until he gets "snipped". He goes through a bag of puppy chow a week. They are not the small bags. Thankfully they are not the "horse" size dog food bags I see in the store. That's for the Mastiff types. Supposedly, after the "snippage", his food requirement will decrease slightly.
The puppy chow is also not the "premium, human quality" pet food that my cats get. Not sure how or when that happened but I tried to switch them back to a "good" brand and that was a definite NO from my "furry four".

90 lbs or so... hmmm.... I think I better pay more attention to the training. I think I would prefer it that I'm in charge, not him. It could get unpleasant otherwise.

We definitely need to work on that Cujo thing. I have pretty well figured out that he is just wanting to "play like a boy" and roughhouse a little. Keeping it down to "a little" and under our control will be the issue.

Think about 47 lbs at the end of a leash changing direction while at a dead run. Now picture a hundred pound dog doing that. We are talking either you let go of the leash or prepare for pain.

Those cute leash things that give you a long leash that rolls up in the handle... that just lets the dog get up more speed before he hits the end of the leash. Not a good situation for the one at either end of the leash!

I have a dog.

He just may turn into a dignified gentleman.

I was certified as a D.O.M. (the well respected order of Dirty Old Men - I was in my late 20's at the time) many years ago by the wives on the block in military housing where I was living at the time in Puerto Rico. I probably lost the certificate. It was quite an honor. Alas.... "dignified gentleman" is quite beyond my reach. I mean really... the only reason I even have friends is that my wife is such a wonderful person that I get "credit by association".

That's the whole trick... a nice looking friendly but polite dog, and a wife that everyone who meets her instantly likes her.

When you are a curmudgeon like me... you need to work the angles!

Regards,
WebMouse

No Brag, Just the Facts

I have a dog.

I am a fully rational, well educated human male.

I laugh at the pitiful individuals that are anthropomorphizing their pets. I am a human, my dog is a dog. It is not a child, not related to me, does not talk.
You do not feed your dog food that is human food. Dogs eat dog food. I mean, really, we all know what they lick!

I would like those to be the facts, unfortunately they are more brag than fact.

I put my hands on the sides of his head and talk to him. When I eat cheese and crackers, he has been known to get a piece of cracker. Yep... I'm no longer fully rational.

I once prized my mental capability... that's gone now. I'm not sure when I lost it, but it's gone now. Sometime after getting my dog I suspect. I'm not even sure where it went.

The truly sad part of my sordid condition is that I am not totally embarrassed about it. Which, itself, is a further indication of my mental deterioration.

Maybe if I eat more fish it will help. Or... take up Sudoku. Maybe start writing computer code again.

I have a dog.

I am demonstrably mentally "damaged" in some strange way I can not identify.

On the plus side, I support the economy by buying useless toys for my dog and "flavored" treats (I mentioned his "taste" - the "parts" licking thing?).

I am getting educated though. I go to a training class to learn how to pronounce words like "sit, heel, down, stay"... and my personal favorite "come" (which is roundly ignored)... and other words.
I assume this is the purpose for the class, as there seems to be little correlation with my saying the words and any other action occurring or not occurring.

I am, at least, in a class of my peers as everyone seems to be getting the same random response to these particular words.

It is, sadly, no excuse for my treatment of my dog as something other than a dog. Cesar Milan forgive me. I have neither time nor inclination for a two mile run every morning with my dog, nor do I have the focused dedication to the training regimen.

Danny is quite a joy and a good companion, other that his previously mentioned "Cujo phase" in the evenings.

He is only 5 months old so much can be excused due to his "puppy" status.

I am retired so little can be excused due to my "senior" status.

In a year or so, magic will happen and he will be a calm and well mannered adult Golden Retriever... I, on the other hand, will probably still be talking to him but by then I will also be "answering" for him.

"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle. Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Act V, Scene V, Tragedy of MacBeth

Good old Will probably had a dog. I bet you never realized the Will was talking about dog ownership here! It truly is a "tale told by an idiot..." and the "petty pace" definitely speaks to the training class. There are people in that class that have been taking that class many times. That fact did give me pause at first, but I soon realized my other choices were "bad" and "worse".

I have a dog. It's partly a "mental" thing.

Regards,
WebMouse

It's all in the timing!

I know timing is supposed to be what "it's all in". I just don't know what that translates in Danny's mind.

I have a dog. This is Danny, prior to "his moment".


At approximately 7pm every evening he turns into a frantic, jumping, barking, nipping, biting, confused, confusing, hyper, keep-away playing, pain-in-the-... dog.

An hour before this period he is fine. Chewing a rawhide bone, napping, eating... most anything dog like. Maybe playing fetch.

An hour after this, he is again "sane", loving and calm.

I checked the pet catalogs and while they have all sorts of clothing, there are no tinfoil hats to protect him from the thought control that he is evidently under. I need to check the astrology web sites to find out what entity is in ascendancy at 7pm PST.

It's either that or the dog is just plain bi-polar!

hmmm... now that is at least a tenable possibility. I doubt I could get him to wear a tinfoil hat for more than a couple second anyway.

I wonder if it's catching? I do notice that I get more anxious as that 7pm time approaches, and when he goes nutso I am not exactly calm. Last night my wife retreated to the bedroom behind closed doors with all four cats. She had had enough!
I think she would have locked the doors if she could have.

It's mid morning right now and he is peacefully napping. Perhaps gaining strength for the evening?

I have a dog.

7pm occurs every damn day. That's just the way it works.

Regards,
WebMouse

The Mouse's Muse

The WebMouse's muse has been a bit difficult to identify.

It could be (courtesy of Wikipedia - partially ) one of the following.

• Thalia, the muse of comedy
  
• Melpomene, the muse of tragedy
• Klio (also Kleio or Clio), the muse of history
• Danny, the muse of joy and mischief.

There are undoubtedly other possibilities but I am leaning toward either Klio or Danny.
Anyone reading this blog (all two of you) know my leaning toward "the rear view mirror" approach to knowledge which most closely matches the muse Klio.

I have a dog.

Therefore, the muse "Danny" (heretofore unfairly unrecognized by Greek muse makers and not to be confused with the "Greek Music Makers", which was an old Greek band ... or any Greek with enough wine in him or her and a love of Karaoke) is most probably my personal muse.

This is not to slight those old Greeks. They really knew how to party!

The muse Danny is actually a combination of all the listed, at one time or another, with a heavy leaning on History. That should be history, with a lower case "h" as we are not talking long term. Minutes in most cases. My muse, unfortunately, has a fairly short attention span.

The job of a muse is to inspire you. My muse certainly does that.

I've been "inspired" to go in and out of the house more times in one day than I probably did in a month, previous to his arrival (and all involved in THAT surprise are carefully listed in my book... I won't say which book.)

I have been inspired to "yelp" when sitting on the floor (requisite position for confering with this sort of muse) and getting a cold wet nose in the small of the back on bare skin and a little nip to get my attention. When sitting on the floor, attending the muse, one should not be distracted by television. Muse's are jealous creatures. Unless THEY chose to nap, your time is their time!

I have been inspired to "growl". Usually involved with a sub vocal "make up your mind, in or out!"

I have been inspired to "whine". Dear (speaking to wife), would you stay up with Danny tonight so I can get some sleep?

I have also been inspired to "generosity" (see dictionary for "dumb idea") to tell said wife, "You look tired dear, I'll stay up with Danny tonight".

Note that the "Staying up with Danny" involves not going to bed earlier than 10 pm and definitely not until he has both peed and pooped. Since he is normally asleep at that point you have to wake the muse up (no small feat!) and get him to not only wake up but actually "get up". Both ends! The front end is fairly easy to wake up. It has a face you can talk to and ears to hear you. Getting that back end woke up and up on it's legs is an entirely different matter and can be entertaining and frustrating at the same time. Muse's are like that.

I have been inspired to take more showers and wash my hands more often. Muse's lick a lot. Really... a lot!.. and I can't even say "who knows where that tongue has been?"... I KNOW!
Don't even get me started on "yummy flavored dog food and treats!".

I have also been inspired to write. It's a form of therapy. When you have a muse, you often need therapy. I have thought that a hot spa and a couple or three glasses of wine might also be good therapy. In addition to the cost, there is the danger that I might just decide to drown myself (or possibly my muse!).

I had this vision of me sitting in this hot bubbling spa with a nice glass of merlot and having my muse decide that "that looks like fun" and jumping in with me. The mental pictures of what would ensue from that event are not to be considered. I would have to have "real" therapy then! The expensive kind. Much more than the cost of a spa. Definitely the case of a dollar chasing a dime.

I'll just stay with the big tub or a hot shower. Merlot is over-rated anyway.

I can forgo my dreams of a hot tub and a glass of wine but my most fervent prayer is that I not devolve into a beer swilling red-neck. No offense intended to the red-necks of America. I just don't want to join you!
I've compromised... no hot tub... yes on the wine.

I'm not too worried about the red-neck thing. I like showers and wine and food that isn't all deep fried, and I don't consider donuts a vegetable. I don't care if they come from a "grain" and it is "cooked", they are not a vegetable!

I have a dog.

My dog is a Muse, not to be confused with "amusing" (which he certainly is... sometimes). I bet you never knew that Golden Retrievers were Greek!

Inspiration...

There is also the realization that a cat and a laptop in your lap, sitting in a big nice chair and with a TV on and the remote at hand is not all of life. (close... but there is more.)

I get out more now and see the trees and the undergrowth in all stages of life, look at clumps of grass that my muse in checking out and thinking of what passed this way. Live outside is incredibly rich and for my limited senses, quite mysterious. I can only imagine what Danny "see's" in this world with his senses.

I can smell a skunk, if I'm unfortunately close... he can smell where a mouse passed earlier that morning.

I wouldn't willingly go out in the rain just to look at the trees. I also wouldn't have seen the beautiful sights I have seen. I wouldn't have seen water drops sparkling on the ends of pine needles in the beams of sunlight, like other worldly Christmas trees, wrapped in swirls of steam from that sunlight hitting the wet ground.

I have a dog.

It all evens out.

Regards,
WebMouse

The Colors of Yellow

I have a dog.

I know Pee.

It comes, for example, in the "color" of a command ... "Danny Pee!", which eventually devolves from the command into the pitiful plea "Danny... pee?". The school of dog training we are attending maintains a dog can be trained to pee or poop on command. Despite this ludicrous fancy, we are generally happy with the training classes. If nothing else, Danny gets to sniff a lot of... well... he meets a lot of other dogs.

There is, in our class, a beautiful huge light tan Mastiff (or some other huge breed that could pass for a horse with a strange face) that is named "Gwendolyn". There is also a tiny ratty little spiky haired thing that is named "Gladiator". I swear to you, those are their names. Go figure.

I have a dog.

His name is Danny. He's a real dog with a real sounding name. No 'foo-foo" there.

Back to pee...

Pee also comes in the "color" of a comment. I have to rely on memory of a cat I had that hated my frequent traveling for work. The cat jumped up on the bed one morning I had hauled my suitcase out to pack for a trip, peed in the suitcase, looked at me as if to say "so there!" and then jumped down and ran away. This was not an "accident". This was a specific comment!

Pee also comes in the "color" of a request. Danny will whine to go outside to pee. He is really trying to con me out of a treat. It does work due to the "uncertainty of pee" factor. One never knows the "degree of pee" that is involved. The con comes in when Danny manages to squeeze out about a tablespoon of pee and them come right over and sit politely in front of me and grin while he waits for his treat and praise!

Pee can also come in the "color" of "joy". Danny has been known to show his pleasure of meeting a new person with a tiny but wet show of appreciation.

I started this post with humor because there is another form of "Pee" also. One that is not funny. Pee also comes in the "color" of a fear response. I've chose to call this the "Pee of Fear". If you make your dog pee out of fear you immediately feel condemned for your action, at least I did. The look in his eyes was one I would not like to see again. He didn't condemn me, I did. He only wanted to know what he did wrong.

The dog is an animal that will love you unconditionally and forgive you anything. People, what ever you think of them, will NOT do that. They may try, but...

Danny has forgiven me and we are buds again, but I will not forget my momentary lapse into anger. At least it is my serious intention not to forget that I lost my temper (and found my anger). A dog is a pretty good gauge of your "humanity". Particularly the definition that goes:


hu·man·i·ty (hy-mn-t)
The quality of being humane; benevolence

If you lose a dog's trust, and it pees in fear... consider getting yourself a trailer and moving out into the desert. You probably aren't fit company for actual people. People take a whole lot more work to earn their trust than dogs and are much less forgiving.

In God we trust, all others we verify (TV commercial).

Well... but... then there are:

• Politicians that convince you to vote for them by telling you anything you want to hear.
  
• Public figures that tell you the meaning of "is" is different for them.
• People that can be convinced, "if the glove don't fit, you must acquit"
• People that believe they are seeing the face of Jesus in a potato chip, or Elvis
  
• People that will sign up for a home loan that THEY know THEY can't pay for.
• People who take investment advice from other people that have to work for a living and evidently didn't take their own advice.
• People who kill other people because they are it's a "good thing". (actual critical thought is not their strong point)
  

Good old Abe Lincoln said (in part)..."You can fool some of the people all of the time..." Given the huge population of the earth at the moment... that's a pretty significant number of morons out there, and some of them are voting and lots of them have guns. Which gets me back to the "Colors of Yellow"... that scares the pee out of me which is another example of... the "pee of fear".

I have a dog.

He is forcing me to exercise (or he gets to be a ROYAL pain in the.... , So we exercise.)

He also forces me to see myself at my best and at my worst. He helps me be more of the first and less of the latter. That is a good thing, however unplanned.

Who would have thought that "pee" comes in so many "colors"?

Actually, what kind of mind thinks about the color of pee that much at all. That is pretty weird.

I need help. I better talk to my dog and see what he thinks.


Regards,

WebMouse

Have a seat... on the floor!

I have two couches in the living room.
I also have two nice chairs in the living room.
I often sit on the floor. Not totally by choice.

I have a dog.

My dog is teething right now and is... well... a little "uncertain" in what he wants.

Chew toy(s)?
Find something new to chew on?
Go outside?
Come inside?
Pace?
Paw at owner?
Bark at.... most anything?

I have regrettably found that if I sit on the floor with my back to the couch (that I would rather be sitting in), he will often calm down and lay down beside me and take a nap. Granted there is a certain amount of give and take that goes on before he gives up and naps.

This "give and take" thing... understand... it's not a real "balanced" thing you know. So far I have kept him from considering any parts of my anatomy to be a chew toy. Pretty much.

Did you know that God has a sense of humor? I "married" a family so I missed the experiences of putting a small child to bed that is teething or generally cranky. My two kids were talking and more or less sentient, reasoning beings, so I "escaped" the fun of that part of raising kids. Yeah, one of those "sentient" kids conspired to get me the dog.
God definitely has a sense of humor.

Danny is definitely sentient, although he does have trouble with the "mirror" test. That dog in the mirror might not be him. You have to be careful. I am also sure he reasons. Not maybe along the lines I would select but reason, at least to his definition. While teething, that reasoning is pretty much out the door. Right along, right along with my choice of where to sit.

I have a dog.

I have choices, mostly... and I learned more about "humor".

All considered, the experience is mostly positive and I definitely learned more about "humor"... did I mention the holes in the back yard?

Lesson: A sense of humor is as important as exercise to a healthy life.

Regards, (laughing all the way)
WebMouse

Conjugation of "dog"

This doesn't obey any English grammar rules but I don't really care.

"Dog" conjugates into:

Yesterday I dug.
Today I dig.
Tomorrow I will darn sure dig again!

We also have the dog version of tense (sort of)...

I dig a hole.
I dig a really big hole.
I dig a trench.

If I could get that "trench digging" thing trained or under control, I might have a "working dog" here. His trenches are quite straight.

I think the physical limitations of the mechanical elements of the basic machine will limit the trench to about a foot deep. Not exactly a "ditch witch". On the other hand he works for dog chow and praise.

I have been known to work for chocolate chip and walnut cookies. My recipe is basically the one on the Tollhouse chocolate chip bag. Semi-sweet! My only variation is to ignore the amounts for chips and nuts and just cram as much in as the dough will hold and not fall apart.

ah yes... dug, dig and all that...

I have a dog.

I have LOTS of holes now in my back yard.

On the plus side you can REALLY piss off a dog by filling in his holes. Danny gets really irate! I found you need to take your entertainment in this "dig" thing where you can.

There may be some sort of "union thing" involved here. Danny saw me digging holes with a shovel in the "other" (non-dog) part of the yard and he really barked and seemed irritated. I may have been breaking some union regulation. Digging without union supervision or something.

On the down side of this wealth of freshly dug holes, I found you can't plant anything in them. My wife found out that if Danny was allowed near her garden he thought it a fine place to dig. It also had "stuff" to dig up and "discover". I think they are called "bulbs" of the "oh no!" variety. I'm really not sure about the "variety", as there were several words from her that I could not make out clearly.

I read up on this dog raising thing and some books suggest you create a "digging pile" of sand for the dog and then let him watch you bury a toy or two and encourage him to dig them out. This guy must be the Dr. Spock of dog raising. We all know how that Spock thing worked out... California!

I had another otherwise bright human that makes her living training dogs tell me to use a squirt bottle with water to just squirt at the dog to stop him barking. HAH!
Let's just say that Danny LIKES to get squirted in the head with a garden hose so I doubt some little squirt bottle will have much impact.

I am tempted to dump a big pile of sand in the back yard (the dog part). I have lots of "spare sand" from when my property was cleared and leveled. I might as well let Danny have some fun with sand. Sand is his favorite thing. It's that old "sand demon" thing. He really likes digging and playing in it. I am attempting distraction but... who knows.

I get to rent a small tractor with a front loader and play in the sand for a few hours. Nothing says I have to let the dog have all the fun!

Conclusion... dogs don't "conjugate" but they sure can dig and they really don't like you filling in their holes!

I have a dog.

I also have lots of new holes in the "dog" part of the back yard. They are more or less permanent. Did I mention that any hole that is filled in, gets re-dug (past, plu-perfect? ) very quickly.

Re-dugeth? Re-dugged?

Regards,
WebMouse

Aaroooff

I have a dog.

I learned a new word today (not that one, I know plenty of those!)

Aaroooff means "play fetch". Here, all along, I had been telling my dog to "Fetch", in a firm commanding male voice. It worked, usually, for a while, kinda.

My dog would keep barking "Aaroooff" and go get what ever I tossed (usually) and bring it back (more or less). I usually got a glimpse of it as it went by at speed, firmly clenched in his mouth.

For some reason, today, when I tossed his favorite toy I said "Aaroooff". I got a pretty funny look from him but he went and got it and brought it back (pretty much). Every time I threw it and called Aaroooff, he would go get his toy and bring it back, but would not bark Aaroooff any more. He had trained me to play "Aaroooff".

I would suppose that Webster had a dog. I wonder why Aaroooff is not in the dictionary? Maybe his dog was more of a couch potato.

Danny was watching me dig this damn deep hole for his "doogie doolie" canister (you REALLY do not want to know!) and barking up a storm. I think he was giving me digging advice. He sort of lost interest when the hole got over 3ft deep and was really a lot of work to dig. Kneeling by a hole and digging down to 4ft with a clamshell digger is definitely not a joyful experience. He went over and laid down to chew on his rawhide bone. I didn't have his sense, or a rawhide bone, so I kept digging.

It helps to be a little crazy to even think of installing a doggie septic system. But...

I got a dog.

Now he's got his own septic system.

Regards,

WebMouse

Cruelty vs Love

Only... it's not always so. Sometimes they are the same thing. One apparent, one real.

I got a dog.

A dog has to be trained. Or rather, the owner has to be trained. It is a dog. It is not a surrogate child, It does not think, in the sense we do. It does not do a host of things that we often give it credit for. It is a dog. You are a human (probably)... so get over it and get on with it.

For the dog to be happy he has to fit into the only world he understands. The pack. Someone better be the leader because that gives him stability and makes him comfortable. If you treat the dog like a child... guess what... you get a neurotic dog.

In the training process a color is used that looks to be a positively medieval Torquemada like device. It has prongs and looks horrible.
In truth the device is kind but MUST be fitted correctly and used correctly. My dog went from wild and willful to mellow and happy to walk under control in a matter of minutes. Now... there will have to be LOTS of hours of training but the collar only goes on for the training part.
The collar simulates the grabbing feeling on a dogs neck that the mother gives for correction. It is specifically designed and sized to ONLY apply a specific amount of pressure. You add or remove individual links until it just barely grabs the neck with the prongs... and you use it in a quick pull and release motion. Most of the time it hangs slack and feels smooth to the dog.

Now... I am not going to belabor the point of drawing parallels between God "training" or "instructing" man and this collar. If you can't figure it out yourself you don't deserver to know the one or be counted as the other.

Short form... it works very well. Not all dogs need it, most do. It is only used for training periods.

Get over it. I did.

You want to give you dog love, train him to fit in his place. Both he and you will be much happier. WAY happier!

Right now Danny (said dog) is going through teething so some bets are off and he likes his gums massaged. He also picks up ANYTHING he finds at it goes into his mouth. The vet referred to dogs his age as four legged "Hoovers" (no offense to the vacuum company). Keep him away from the dangerous stuff like poisonous plants, mushrooms, fertilizers, rodent poisons, and a few other choice doggy tidbits. Plenty of treats in your pockets at this time help.

Dog owner... the one with milk bones instead of candy bars in his pockets.

Regards,
WebMouse

You gotta be quick!

Puppy teeth are sharp and puppies get excited. It's a fact, nothing personal nor any comment on you, it's just a reality associated with owning a dog.

I have a dog.

My wife took Danny out for a walk and didn't tell me until later that he had nailed her on the back of her hand at the base of the thumb.

You definitely do not get mad at a dog for being a dog. You just calmly go over the training again about nipping. Hmmmmm. There must be a lesson in that. Might have something to do with it being a VERY good thing that God is patient and calm with us?

Well... there was that whole flood thing so patience can have limits I guess. Probably a good idea not to really try to test those limits. Oh yeah.... dogs...

I have a dog.

The good part about those sharp teeth are they are puppy teeth and the adult teeth are a little duller. I have been told that by reliable authorities so I really hope it is true. I've been nailed once or twice myself. I'm just a little quicker than my wife and sort of expect it.

There are a lot of things that "you gotta be quick" about.

• Setting the hook on a fish
• Ducking when someone yells "duck" or "fore" (ask "why" AFTER!)
• Apologies (this is REALLY important!)
  
• Laughing at a joke (even if you didn't get it right away)

You could really consider it a matter of timing I guess.
Setting the hook at the precise moment the fish has it in his mouth, not before or after.
Getting your head down before whatever it was, is now where your head was.
Apologies lose value quickly. The longer you wait, the better that apology needs to be.
Laughing at a joke just slightly after most of the rest have started but before the last person starts. You don't have to actually get the joke, you just need to appear to. That's unlike the "duck" thing. On that one, there is no faking it. DUCK!

One dog breeder (we're back to dog's... keep up!) told me that Danny would be in a lot of pain with the teething thing and expect most of the training accomplished up to that point to temporarily go out the window. So far it's gone pretty well, but then again, he is just starting.

Did you know that you don't have to speak to talk? I swear Danny has established a doggie "mind meld" with me. I am catching myself talking to him as though he had made a statement or asked a question. Spooky stuff.

That love that flows out of those eyes is scary stuff. If I get less patient than I'd like be (ashamed of myself is the actual phrase) with him, he gets this hurt look and I want to dig a hole and climb in it. It's really an ugly feeling. No matter how you have just yelled at him, he is ready to love you unconditionally.

You definitely do NOT want to see sadness or fear in those eyes and believe me, it is as visible as a lightning bolt hitting the ground in front of you on a dark night and seriously painful. It's capable of shattering your soul in a heartbeat and condemning you and forgiving you in that same instant. It's a mirror showing you a place in yourself that your REALLY don't want to see, or even know is there.

We want to lie to ourselves and tell ourselves how good we are. Very often we aren't, but learning that truth is a good thing. You can't start to work on what's wrong, if you don't know it's even there.

There are beasts that we would accord the title "human" merely because of their appearance, that can look into the eyes of a dog and see nothing. Speaking only for myself, I would not so accord them that title. Soulless beast's they are and should be treated so.

Ok... so I'm not quite a liberal, angst ridden, guilt seeking, know everything (it's all YOUR fault), tree hugging, chain myself to the power plant gate, dove.

I'm not a member of the NRA, but that's probably because I don't like big clubs (the kind you join, not the kind you swing!).

I have a dog.

That's not a bad thing.

Regards,
WebMouse

Maximum Fear, Comic Relief

Fear and Laughter often are not such separated emotions as we might think. You can shift from one to another very quickly. Yesterday I felt fear and it turned into laughter in just a moment. Laughter is often a release from fear. It reportedly is also healing.

I have a dog.

Yesterday my wife yelled from the back porch door "Oh my God!". Now, that is a sort of ambiguous phrase, it can be either good or bad. It depends on the context. The context was my wife went out to get the dog. I was up out of my chair and across the room before she could get the words out "nothing is wrong!".

Now, I don't know about you but when I hear "Oh my God!" and "nothing is wrong" in almost one breath.... I sort of get curious.

I was certain upon hear the first phrase I was going to find a seriously hurt dog and really panicking. Why do we assume the worst? I think it's probably a genetic thing from way early times. If you hear something behind you growl, it's probably better to be running before the last "rrrrr" sounds. You can always check to see what it was later from the safety of a tree top.

By the time I hear the second phrase I was looking at what she was seeing and I was already moving into the laughter stage.

I have a dog. That dog was outside in the rain in a yard that he had been digging in and when she looked at him he had his head buried ear deep in a mud hole that he was digging. It was instant transformation from Golden Retriever into really dirt brown soggy wet but very happy and proud puppy!

My wife managed to get out "but, but... he was just laying there in the grass under the swing a few minutes ago when I checked... he was clean!

I have a dog.

I have a wife that is learning ALL about dogs.

I am getting very good at dog washing! There was this great dark brown and wet beast looking in the window of the back door. It had a really big grin on it's face too!

Danny (aforementioned dog) really loves water. I guess I should add digging also and mud is no object. Anyway... dog baths are becoming quite routine and are just a matter of the garden hose and lots of towel drying, and... he really loves getting dried by towels. I think he considers it a spa massage. He just lays there on his back with his eyes mostly closed and seems very content.

I am looking for some sort of miniature (relatively so) automated dog washing machine. It needs to be big enough to handle a full size Golden Retriever, run on 110 VAC, and wash and dry the dog. Blow dry would probably work but a rotating towel brush like the brushes in car washes might be good also.
The idea is "dirty wet dog" goes in one end and "clean dry dog" comes out the other. Oh... the dog should come out happy also. A clean dry and really mad dog would not be a good thing. Trust me on this!

It's not as if I was silly enough to want a machine that washes a cat and leaves it happy. Compared to that, a dog washing machine should be simple. I don't care if it is eco friendly and recycles the water or not. Clean, dry, happy dog... that's it.

If anyone knows of such a machine, please let me know.

It shouldn't be coin operated as the dog doesn't have pockets. Some sort of sensor to turn it on would be best.

Regards,
WebMouse

Sunshine, Warmth and Peace

I am sitting in a lawn swing in the sun and am warm and content.

I also have a dog.

The dog is napping in the shade under the swing, which explains the "peace and contentment" parts. He will, periodically, jump up in the swing to get pet and to get his belly rubbed. That's Ok with me, I can read and pet him at the same time. I am a highly competent person. I have never tripped while walking and chewing gum!

I am reading a good book and getting some vitamin D. All good stuff.

My dog has started digging a hole in the precise spot the telephone cable is buried but it is buried deep so... still peaceful. Plan on burying a large section of wire mesh fencing about 6 inches underground over all the utility lines. That should help.

Yesterday I did a great job extending the gutter downspout drain pipe across the yard and out over a hill so the back yard dog run will not turn into a lake. Good work!
My dog is in the process of digging the huge pipe back up but he has only uncovered a small section so... still peaceful. Planning on getting a couple bags of concrete though.

It's truly amazing what a warm sun and a nice yard swing with a great view can do for you. Even my dog is mellow today.

Where was all this mellowness a day or so ago, when I found my dog covered with "used and soupy kitty litter"? Maybe I should contemplate that mystery... with my eyes closed. It helps the contemplation!

I'm not a sun worshiper but maybe a stone Ankh or something Ra-ish as a yard decoration would not be out of keeping with my mellow mood.

When I took my dog for a walk today, even he was (relatively) mellow. A warm sunny day in the spring can do wonders for the soul.

Holes in the yard? pshaw! (my grandmother used to say that -- Good word! For her it meant "that's not right but... it's not a big thing.) I can always fill the holes back in.

It is truly amazing how little it actually takes to make us feel good or feel down. Also, how when you are feeling one, you have trouble imagining feeling the other!

I may have to take up the "Zen" life, that or get a nice sun lamp!

The sun is warm and it is a good day.

And...

I have a dog. What more do I need?

WebMouse

Bath time!

I have a dog.

Dogs have certain habits.

I had informed my wife about some of the more unpleasant ones.

I had told her about my friend's dog that rolled in Bear shit (was living in Alaska at the time). You TRULY do not want to have to deal with something like that. The dog evidently thought the scent was attractive.

I forgot this.

I found my dog in his backyard dog run with his back covered in what appeared to be white paint. Wet white paint and sort of thick.

He had found a plastic bag of kitty litter "scoopings" that had evidently laid by the back step for months and got hidden in the grass. It never made it to it's intended destination. (mea culpa - on both tall grass and forgotten bag)

Keen hunter that he is, he found it and dragged the bag to the center of the lawn and proceeded to roll on it and generally have fun. The bag, by this time, had holes in it and the seriously wet mass of clay kitty litter was little more than a bag of mildly scented very wet white clay.

1. Moved said bag (carefully!) out of the way to be properly disposed of.
2. Chased down dog.
3. Got garden hose.
4. Washed down dog.
5. Dog "dried" himself.
6. Went for walk with dog.

It's that step #5 that did it. Dogs shake violently to fling off the water. It works fairly well. Long haired dogs can get their hair whipping back and forth at a pretty good clip. This is called a "shower".

Since I was really wet and shaking did not seem to work for me, Danny and I went for a walk to dry off a little. That sort of worked.

When we got back I took a towel to him and dried him some more. Operating on the theory of "in for a penny in for a pound" (dumb British saying!) my wife and I decided to give him a "real" bath. With real dog shampoo and warm water this time. (mumble, mumble)

He got cleaner and really seemed to enjoy the whole process as the warm water was probably much nicer than the garden hose of cold water I used. I say "my wife and I" in the very loosest term. She pretty much watched and laughed.

It was the same process as before without the walk. It was steps #4 and #5 all over. Literally. Dog is now clean(er) and seemed pretty happy about all the toweling. He really likes that.

I took a real shower and changed out of now seriously wet clothing. My wife now had the good sense to stop laughing.

On the positive, but only slightly, side... it wasn't paint.

Which brings up my next dilemma, we live in the woods, bears also live in these woods, bears do what bears do in the woods. I am quite sure that at some time in the future my laughter at my friends "dog/bear problem" will come home to add to the humor of life.

Life being that thing that bites you in the butt when you are turned laughing at some other poor soul.

A dog, on the other hand, is what is standing there innocently, watching the whole process. He also forgives you for both not picking up the back of used litter when you should have and also for taking it away from him when he was enjoying it. You are, after all, only human and have no comprehension of the subtle humor of life.

I have a dog.

And... humor in my life.

WebMouse

Arrgh! Curse you Red Barron!

Curse you Red Barron and the Fokker, Albatross or Seagull... what ever it is was that you flew!

Just when I have you in my sights, you are gone!

...

I have a dog.

Just when I (we actually) think we have this dog (puppy) thing down pat... it disappears like the Red Barron!

Danny weighs 33 pounds now and is just 4 months old. A sweat tempered Golden Retriever.... usually...

He was practicing "brat" today. Actually, only this afternoon and evening. He was great until then. I'm going to blame it on a weather front coming in and dropping snow here in coastal Oregon in March. Hard to imagine snow here, let alone in March. It was weird weather today.

Have you ever noticed that just when you figure you have something "locked down" and "fully in hand"... some idjut comes along and changes the rules! What's worse, you don't know the rules have been changed until they up and bite you.

I'd like to see what one of those "go with the flow" California New Age nut cases says when they get bit in the ass by that "rule change". (I was a Californian, although never a new age nut case so I get to speak that way)
Anger is a natural human emotion and I am sure it is a survival trait. It must be!

You should see Danny get angry. He even "mumbles" when he is told (made?) to do something he REALLY doesn't think he should have to.
If he's really worked up on a walk he will grab the leash in his teeth and decide to lead "me". That's doesn't work out for him too well.

Made me wonder... am I "grabbing the leash in my teeth and mumbling" when I am being led someplace I don't want to go? Probably so.

Patience... I must require a lot of it from the other end of that leash.

Just a random observation from a dog owner. Nothing particular in mind.

Web Mouse