One more moon dance

AAHHH - it's Saturday and a long (3 day ) weekend - away from school. It's nice to chill. Even thought he kiddies are just sooo wunerfullll.



The weather today is awesome - sat outside with the morning coffee staring at the moon.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uNsmF9JTpuI
Van Morrison - you ROCK.....

Company is coming so cleaning the house and buying a new guest bed is on the agenda. Hope the dogs behave. Hubby is painting the living room - and a great job he is doing.

Nettie is settling in to the new routine and has discovered the cat runs when she is chased. She is doing awesome on her leash with Russ as her mentor. Russ on the other hand is a little miffed at the new family member. 'And I'm trying to please to the calling'.

Adopt a rescue dog!!!!!!!!!! We miss you Ron.

Territorial Terror

We own or are owned by a 100 pound German Shepard. He is not Mr. Nice Guy. He loves his family - I think. Strangers and certain people he has an automatic dislike bulb that goes off in his pea brain. He's not the best behaved canine in the neighborhood. He hates other dogs and cats but co-exists with our cat. We have signs posted on all sides of our fence to warn intruders or others.

Big boy is never left outside unattended. I know his temperament and watch him carefully. Most of the time he is well behaved but you never know.

We were walking the big bruiser last night and when we arrived at our yard we let him off the leash. He likes to do his business in the front yard. Whatever?

Across the street two salesmen going door to door (what a horrible job) and they started to approach our house. Very politely I stated, "Please do not come in our yard. The dog is not friendly."

So is that a simple easy statement? I thought so. The one man started right toward our driveway and said, "I've been trained with dogs."

Not his dog. At this point in time I was a bit annoyed. I reiterated my statement. "Please do not come in my yard. This dog is not friendly."

Hello, what don't you understand? The man mumbled something and kept moving towards us. Hubby grabbed big boy and took him inside without his business being completed. Now, I am in total annoyance with salespeople.

I stated perhaps a little louder since he did not understand my pleasant talk. "Do not come in our yard."

Finally he walked away. This is my home, my yard and my domain. When I tell you to get lost please abide by my wishes. They were selling home security. LOL. I have my own and he weighs 100 pounds.

Dead in a Dumpster

I live in a quiet neighborhood - or at least I thought I did. This morning while dining at 'The Dirty Dog Cafe', I overheard a conversation. A rather disturbing conversation about a dead body being found in a dumpster. I immediately thought about the three year old missing from Orlando. I hurried out to purchase the paper.
I found the article small and hidden in a corner of the paper. I read the address - hold on - wait a minute!!!! That's just too close to my address. In fact, it's about four blocks from my home. No reasons or motives were given about the body of an 18 year old young man found dead in a dumpster almost in my backyard.
About a month ago several miles from my home an elderly couple was killed in the early AM. Funny thing is perhaps a half an hour before that murder my dog went on a barking rampage. He is not one to bark at the wind although he will bark at squirrels. I am thankful for my pain in the tush dog at this point in time. I feel he is a safety net. But if one intends to rob a home they will also not think twice about shooting a dog.
I wonder if there is any place that is safe from violence and crime? Probably not. More 'Beware of Dog' sign will go up around my home.

Sleep Deprivation

Another lack of sleep night. I am so sleep deprived I can't get the coffee cup to my mouth. The dog (she 's old) 'thinks' - that's the key word - 'thinks' - she needs to go out. At this point I'm thinking - just pee on your doggy pad in the kitchen. I don't care - that's why I bought the pads. I just want a good 8 hours of uninterrupted shut-eye. A near impossible feat.
During the night about every hour she walks aimlessly back in forth and her toenails scratch across the hardwood floors. Very similar to running fingernails down a chalkboard although most now have been replaced by whiteboards. Why did that happen? Another mystery.
On the half hour she walks between the plastic window blinds on the sliding glass doors. The noise is like an alarm going off and the witch does it till I get out of bed and let her out. And she can't be let out alone she needs to be accompanied by a responsible adult. She walks aimlessly around the backyard. She doesn't like to do her business in the back yard - in secrecy away from the prying eyes of the neighbors. No, this old girl prefers the front yard - right beneath the streetlights (me in my ratty old night gown) and then she takes off like a flash down the road. I chase her around the brightly lit cul-de-sac with the tail of my night shirt flapping in the breeze. Happens every time but for whatever reason I am never prepared for this stunt.
I just want to get some sleep. Instead of doggy day care - I need doggy night care.

5 Ways To Scare the Neighbors

1. It's 5AM and the old dog (almost 18) has to pee. I sneak out the front door so she can complete her business - quick and simple. Life is never quick nor simple. I stand there in the semi-darkness as the morning breeze sways the palms clad in my very thin cotton nightshirt. A sleeping garment not too sweet on prying eyes.

I turn my back for a moment, a second, a nana second and - she's gone. Collarless, mindless and on some sort of mission. Since her mind has vanished she displays strange behavior. She wanders endlessly and becomes lost even in a closet.

2. Panic sets in. I run to the end of the driveway - hoping no one in the neighborhood is awake. She is nowhere to be seen. How can a dog so old and confused disappear so fast? Most of the time she can't find her way to the feeding dish. And she is ALWAYS underfoot.

I scan the street and the culdesac. Still clad in my ridiculous evening wear. Panic rises. Where would she go? Could she have wandered to the next street? What to do? I most certainly cannot run wildly up and down the streets looking like this.

3. I begin to canvass the street. A house has their garage door open. Should I? OMG! She went into a neighbors house. She's deaf so she can't hear my desperate pleas. She's also nearly blind so she cannot she me trotting down the street in my beastly garb.

4. Should I return home and grab a robe? Do I have time? What if she makes it to the main road? She will not last long. I run back home - scream for help and grab a robe. I run madly down the street barefoot and wild. I wonder who may be peering out their windows at this strange sight? Hubby comes to the rescue clad in red satin boxers and he runs East while I run West.

5. I see her walking nonchalantly out of the neighbors garage. I grab her and scream with relief. I am so thankful for the robe. The neighbor stands in the shadows watching me with wary eyes.

Ron Recovering

Ron had his vets visit - wasn't that fun. They requested we use THEIR muzzle. He was not a happy camper. There were four attendants and the vet and yet they still could not contain him. Should have given him a feel good pill before he went in. He just does not like the vets and do I blame him? No. You see them coming with that thermometer and you know where it's going. He has gone from 100 pounds down to 80. That is a significant weight loss - perhaps he could get a commercial on TV. If only I could drop 20 pounds in a week.

So, $164.00 dollars later the vet is clueless. They don't know what his problem is besides the fact that his behavior is atrocious. We try - bought Cesar Milan's book, walk him everyday, try in vain to become the pack leader - we have failed. He is who he is.

Today Ron seems much perkier and he is eating his milk bones and he especially likes his new (expensive - very expensive) dog food. Perhaps he was depressed after all? Right now he seems on the road to recovery. The vets will call today with his test results. I wonder how much that will set us back. I think I should purchase pet insurance.

Coffee Time Again

What goes better with a beautiful morning? A fresh cup of coffee. The sun has just began its ascent to brighten the gorgeous day. It was a little brisk so I donned my fleece L.L. Bean robe that has been with me for years. I venture outside with coffee in hand and find a secluded place to sit and sip. A few birds serenade me with a soft sound. Dew is absent from the tropical painted comfortable adirondack chairs. They are comfy and sort of mold to your backside and the wide arms make a perfect table to hold the cup of brew.

All is right with this morning and my world. Peace, quiet a little melody in the air and a strong cup of coffee with cream. A perfect time to meditate renew my thoughts before the work day begins. Just the smell of the coffee sends my taste buds swirling like a rogue wave crashing onto the beach in the late summer. I hear the dull thud of the dog door - then back to natures silence. Perhaps he will not find me.

His heavy footsteps thump across the wooden deck. His panting lets me know the toy is in his mouth and he is ready for play. I suck down a hot gulp of fresh coffee - with cream. I set my coffee on the large arm of the brightly painted yellow adirondack chair. I look away from him. He drops the toy right by my left foot. He pants and slobbers on my exposed right foot. Still, I pay him no attention.

Another swig of the warm lucious brew. His panting grows frantic and he grabs the toy and dances around. Anything for attention is his motto. I reach out to take his toy. His movement was instant and deadly. The tail a dangerous weapon wacks my coffee cup and sends it flying, shattering on the wooden deck. I sit placidly in my comfy adirondack chair and feel the hot coffee drip from my fleece L.L. Bean robe all the way down to my bare toes. He just stands in front of me with the stupid toy clutched in his mouth wagging that dangerous tail with a gleam in his eye. I yell obsenities at him and the wag of the tail escalates. He doesn't have a clue.

I stand and hold the soggy robe away from my body and walk back in the house. I look over my shoulder and his long pink tongue is licking up the fresh hot coffee with cream. His tail wags excessively. My day begins.

Morning Coffee

It's not an easy straight shot to get my morning cup of coffee. It's more like a meandering maze of defiance to obtain the caffeine connection. As soon as my feet hit the hardwood floors the little dog needs to pee. She's getting old and has a difficult time making it throught the night. If she doesn't get out before first light she targets the nearest rug. We don't have many rugs left in the house.

In the dark I walk - tripping on shoes and discarded garmets - over to the bedroom door and walk out into the brisk cold morning. She doesn't budge. She refuses to go out the back door in the backyard, where neighbors can't see me standing in my pink short nightie. She walks slowly toward the front door. I have to grab my robe off the hook - all this still in the dark. And we exit the front door so she can pee in the front yard. WHY? She heads directly under the street light so I can do the runway model walk for the neighbors. But then how many neighbors are up at 5 AM?

We head back inside - slowly. I remove the robe and try to hang it on the hook - still in the dark. I enter the kitchen and old pusss is standing guard on the counter by her empty food bowl. She lets out a howl and gently slaps my bare arm. Remember I left the robe on the hook. She wants to be fed NOW! In the dark I search the cupboards for her cat food and give her the standard 1/4 of a cup of lowfat cat food. She's as fat as a pig and we have put her on a diet. She's not happy.

I head for the coffee pot feeling the rush. I climb over the gate that seperates the big dog from the little dog and big boy barks for his morning treat. I step back over the kitchen gate and search the cupboards for his bag of bones. Still in total darkness. The little mutt paces frantically around my feet. That's the signal she has to do her number two. I head back to the bedroom grab the robe off the hook - still in the dark. Out the front door once again because she has 'the spot' where she will only do the discharge. She takes her time sniffing out the perfect location. The deed gets done.

We trot slowly back inside and I hang up my robe on the hook - still in the dark. I go back to the kitchen climb over the gate that keeps the two dogs apart and reach my hand out to press the ON button. It makes a nice soft little click sound and I sigh in relief.

I've forgotten to take my blood pressure pill- hhmmm - why do I have high blood pressure? A walk back to the bedroom encased in darkness to find the pill bottle. I touch the menagerie of bottles and containers on my dresser - searching for the pill bottle. I find the one - pop off the cap and drop the entire contents on the floor. I drop to my hands and knees and search for the lost capsules before the dog finds any. I find three and hope there are no more rolling about. I pop a pill and reach for my water bottle always sitting on my nighstand. Empty.

I hurry into the bathroom - still in the dark and search blindly for a cup. No such luck. I resort to desperate measures and stick my head under the faucet. I amaze myself with all this activity and not an ounce of caffeine running through my system. I trip over my robe that never made it to the wall hook.

The sun begins to make her appearance - I wish she would come earlier or the animals would wait till later. I climb back over that darn gate and walk with the full pot of java back to the kitchen in the early morning light. I pour myself a cup of the sweet smelling brew and smile. I open the refrigerator door and reach inside for the creamer. NADA - NONE. Life is cruel.

Goals

One of my goals for this year is to get more exercise. I started with that goal while vacationing in Key West. Driving a car in Key West is like walking thru a maze blindfolded. It is more peaceful to ride bikes. While at Key West I decided to rent a bike instead of walking all day. They have these cute little baskets where you can store water and all of your kool purchases. Once I even put my dirty laundry in the basket and rode to the laundry mat.

So the bike rentals are basically one size fits all. I am a little on the short side. They lowered the seat as far as it would go and still it was difficult to stop and have my feet reach the pavement. I can not even tell you how many times I came face to face with asphalt. Bumps and bruises all over my sore body and I said, "I will never ride a bike again." That was then - this is today.

I search the garage to find my bike - I know it's in there somewhere. Hidden beneath the old pool cover (why haven't we thrown that out?) the umbrella and several stacks of throw rugs: there she is just waiting to be found. I know I should walk the dog today so possibly I could kill two birds with one ride. Not that I would ever kill a bird - maybe a seagull!

I hook the big boy up to his long leash, hop on the bike and off we go. First stop soft grass by the end of my driveway. I look around the cul-de-sac to make sure no one has seen my misfortune. Second try gets me to the corner by the STOP sign. I stop big boy doesn't. The loose fender now hangs precariously closer to the ground. Third and final try - off we go!

The pit bull behind the fence notices us first. I am not prepared. Woof, his deep loud bark shatters my concentration. The big boy takes it as challenge and woofs back on the run. That dog can run faster than I can pedal. It's funny how curbs can stop a person (riding a bike) right in their tracks. I watch my pretty purple bike fly like an eagle gently through the air and land on a perfectly sturdy mailbox. It looked sturdy before it met my bike. I wonder if my homeowners insurance will pay up.

The big boy is busy charging at the pit bull behind the chain link fence as I sit in the gutter and survey my missing skin. I hobble over to the fence and grab his leash and give him a tirade of BAD words. He pants. The owner of the mangled mailbox comes over and asks if I am okay and offers to drive me home and then he looks at big boy. I thank him and offer to replace the mailbox. I pick up my once shiny purple bike and limp home with the big boy. I certainly met my exercise goals for today.

Pondering

Why do dogs smell like dogs? I mean they really stink at times. My dog is a semi-house dog and the house stinks like a dog. He doesn't roll in yucky stuff outside. I wash his dog rug every week and it still smells like a dog. He gets a monthly bath but within a day or two he stinks.

What makes him stink? Does he need doggy deodorant? Has anyone ever done a study on 'Why dogs stink?'

After I pet him I smell like a dog. Does this odor stay with me throughout the day? Do people I meet think I stink like a dog? I could write a rhyming book and call it 'Stink dog Stink.' It could be a second edition to 'Go dog Go.'

I found this great website. I am hoping it helps me with stinky dog.

http://www.bigdogboutique.com/ProductCart/pc/why_dog_stink.html

The website suggest buying liquid Chlorophyll. Why can't I cut my grass boil it up and wash the dog with it? Or make him eat it.

Does your dog stink?