Merry Christmas to all...

and to all a good night.

I'm Thankful for the Crazies

Happy Thanksgiving to my sweet little peanuts. I am thankful for all of the love, joy, and general chaos that they bring to my life. I can't imagine how completely dull life would be without The Goose and Crazypants. I am thinking of you both as I laboriously lay on the beach each day in Hawaii. Thanks for being my sweet friends Bella & Lu, and get ready... life is about to get a whole lot crazier.

Seriously?

So it seems that little Lu may be going through some sort of mental breakdown. Last weekend it was the scary scary ribbons and today she has decided to add the television to her list of evil-doers. That would be the same television, in the same place, doing the same thing that it always has.

She has been sitting on her pillow growling at the tv for about an hour and a half now. Well, that might not be fair, she only growls when something on the tv moves. Needless to say, I am about to completely lose it. Even Bella has started to give her dirty looks.

Maybe, like Scott, she thinks that I may not have the greatest taste in television programming. Is it possible that the two of them could be in cahoots and this is some sad little attempt to try and make me turn off the tv and clean the house? I'm going to put on Animal Planet and see if that helps. Otherwise, it may be Puppy For Sale. Dirt. Cheap.

Update: Rob Lowe just came on Oprah and Lulu is going crazy. Apparently not a fan. I guess she is too young to appreciate his work as Billy in St. Elmo's Fire.

Evil Like Babies, Bunnies, and Rainbows

On Saturday night, we were sitting in the living room watching a movie when we heard a growl coming from the other room. Bella was, as usual, splayed out on her pillow trying to recover from a long day of napping so I used my powers of deductive reasoning to figure ou that it was Lulu. Growling is somewhat new for Lulu. If we are out on a trail and unexpectedly run into someone she deems sketchy, she will produce a low, guttural grown and usually run the other way.

Scott went to check on her and I asked what she was growling at. He said, "I have no idea, she seems to be growling at the corner." Um, okay. So we went back to the movie and called her in to the room. She came in, but a few minutes later was growling somewhat ferociously (for Lulu). My thought was that some kind of rodent got into the house while letting the girls in or out and that we just weren't seeing it. I got up and went into the room and really tried to determine what she was growling at and finally figured it out. Are you ready? It's pretty scary. Here goes:

Yep, she was growling at a jar of pretty ribbons. Scott took the jar down to show her and she ran up to it, growled, and then hauled out of the room. We still have no idea what she found so disturbing about the ribbon jar but what I find most interesting about this whole scenario is that the jar of ribbons have been in the exact same place since we brought her home in March. In fact, I have probably not even picked it up to dust, and now it is back in its place and she seems fine with it. So I guess either my ribbon are possessed by The Devil or Lulu is one fry short of a Happy Meal. I know what my guess is.

Stink, Stank, Stunk

I recently returned from the scene of the "armadillo incident." Apparently, I was not a very animal friendly person in a past life and I am now being punished for all the prior sins of my former self.

The weather here has turned cool and breezy, giving the girls an extra dose of, in my opinion, unnecessary energy. Since they were being fussy, I packed them up in the car and we headed out to play. For some reason, lately, every time we go to this particular location, Lulu becomes quite disobedient, not listening, running off, and generally being a pain in the behind. Nearing the end of our walk, I could tell that she was considering taking off, so I leashed her and headed back to the car.

I hadn't really given much thought to Bella, as she usually sticks pretty close. I called her and she was pretty far back, obviously enamored with something sure to be gross. I told her to "leave it," which she usually obeys but not so much today. So I, being too lazy to go all the way back and get her, proceed to watch her somersault into God Knows What on the ground and rub around in it. Now Bella isn't really known to roll in disgusting things so I am thinking this must be super special for her to partake in. Finally, after about 10 minutes, she comes trotting up, happy as a clam.

Well, I am not so happy. I am already annoyed and then get the joy of smelling her coming about 15 feet before she gets back to us. I look her over and notice that she is covered in what I can only describe as smelly, smelly goo. I still, two hours later, can not figure out what this goo actually is and, in order to not have to make myself gag more than I already have today, have decided not to delve any deeper into this mystery.

I have these wipes in my car and spent a good ten minutes wiping her down. I thought I had done a decent job until I closed the door to my car and dared to breathe. The stench, which I will spare you from describing, was unbearable. I swear if we were a little closer to home, I would have made her trot along side the car. Of course, to keep "Bella pace" I would have had to drive about -2 mph.

Once we arrived home, I tried to scurry her into the bathroom, bribing her with her favorite treats, the equivalent of dog crack. She ran into the bathroom, grabbed the treat from me, and hauled ass back down the hall and into her fort. Bella's "fort" is underneath the dining room table. That is her safe place and where she goes when she is feeling scared, vulnerable, or just plain doesn't want to do something.

Getting Bella out of her fort is almost impossible. There are a few tricks that sometimes work and I tried all such tricks to no avail. I have given up for now, which may sound lame but, believe me, is just a matter of being realistic. She may have won this battle but just wait until Scott comes home and BAM, we win the war. You will be bathed you stinky stinky dog. Until then, I will just concentrate on breathing through my mouth.

Happy HOWLeween

Here's wishing you a Happy Howleween from Bella and Lu. Yes, I am aware that I need to update my technology and that not everyone enjoys watching sideways dark videos but I figured it would be in the spirit of Halloween.

Have a howling good day!

Misunderstood

Yesterday, I was at the dog park and a woman started a conversation with me about the girls' collars. I told her that it was my business and we chatted. She called over 2 of her friends to show her the collars and I noticed that one of the women was carrying a leash that I had made. She was a very nice older woman with a thick German accent. The next part of the conversation went something like this:

Me: "Oh, that is one of my leashes."

Her: "No it isn't"

Me: "Hmm, can I see it?"

Her: "Sure"

(So I look at the leash and absolutely know that I made it and hand it back to her)

Me: "Are you sure. I really think that it is"

Her: "No, my daughter bought it for me"

Other lady: "I think she got it at Petsmart"

Me: "I don't think they carry these at Petsmart"

Other lady: "Oh yes they do, they have several cute designs"

At this point I feel like I am in an episode of the Twilight Zone but don't know what else I can do to convince these ladies that, in fact, it is one of my leashes. So I think to myself, "Whatever crazy ladies." I tell them to have a nice a day, and continue on our walk.

A couple minutes later, I run into the woman with the leash and she says to me that she thinks there was a misunderstanding. Apparently she thought that I was literally saying that the leash was mine, as if she had taken my leash. So, while I thought they were crazy for not understanding that I really did make her leash, they thought I was accusing her of stealing my property. I guess in the kingdom of crazy, that would make me the Queen.

Roadkill

For all of you non-Texans, let me introduce you to the armadillo. Be sure and take a close look at this beautiful creature. It is kind of like a possum (and who doesn't love a possum?), but with a lovely shell. It also somewhat resembles a shelled rat. I don't believe that I have ever seen an armadillo alive, only as quintessential roadkill splayed on the side of the highway. 

I saw an armadillo today and, while it had already met its demise, it wasn't on the side of the road, nor was I in my car. Nope. While on our evening walk, Lulu proudly pranced up to me with a dillo hanging from her mouth. I had the joy of spending 5 minutes wrestling one of God's most stunning creations from her mouth only to have her run back 2 minutes later, giving me the opportunity to repeat the process.

So, while my dear husband was somewhere in Boston, presumably swilling cocktails and having a fabulous dinner, I was spending my evening extracting rodent roadkill from Lulu's jaws.

Good times.

For Anyone Thinking How Much Fun It Would Be To Have Rhodesian Ridgebacks...

Consider this fair warning. This is what Ridgebacks like to do when they are not busy lying on their pillows, basking in the sun, or trying to steal food from unsuspecting victims. They also enjoy displaying these types of shenanigans when people come to visit. I can be sitting at home having a perfectly peaceful afternoon, the dogs snoozing away and having shown no signs of any action, beyond lifting their heads to check for treats that might be falling from the sky, in hours. Then, someone will come over and all bets are off. 

Apparently, to the average Ridgeback, having a stranger enter the house is secret code for, "READY? GO FOR IT! New person in the house. Let's make it good! " Now, unless the visitor has a Ridgeback or two of their own, they usually look at you with 1. shock, 2. bewilderment, 3. dismay, and 4. pity. At this point I will try and explain that, no, they aren't always like this, that in fact, it is sometimes hard to even get them up off their pillows to go outside and go potty. They will usually nod and look at me like, "um hmm, sure." Hasty exits tend to follow shortly thereafter.

Sometimes I think back to the pre-Lulu days. Everything was so much simpler (and quieter) back then. Then I look at the two crazies, rolling around on the floor, howling/ barking at the top of their lungs, and a huge smile comes across my face. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Lulu Rides the Short Bus

These pictures were taken when my friend Jes (hi Jes!) took Lulu for the day. Jes has 2 Ridgebacks, Dakota, who probably weighs more than she does, and Aby, who is her boyfriend's dog. Jes also has a Chocolate Lab named Bailee, who could not be found in the picture, as she was left at home for lack of being a Ridgeback.

So Jessica took the dogs for a morning hike at Turkey Creek and then later in the day they headed to Blue Hole in Wimberley. When they got in the truck to head to Wimberley, apparently Dakota decided to assert his dominance over Lulu by growling at her every time she touched him. As you can see from the photo above, this gave Lulu very little room to maneuver, causing her to be growled at frequently.

This was Lulu's solution to the problem. While I give her huge props for ingenuity, I can't help to, once again, wonder what in the world goes through that dog's head. I have never in my life seen a dog sit like this by choice, much less in a car. I have had these photos for several months and every time I think of her cruising down the road in this position with that look on her face, I can't stop giggling. What can I say? She is one of a kind.

By all means, please make yourself comfortable

When Bella was young, I really had a hard time accepting that she didn't want to snuggle with me. I used to daydream about how nice it would be for her to sleep in bed with me. Well, I got to fufill my dreams with Lulu, who LOVES to snuggle and thinks that sleeping in bed is the greatest thing in the world. Be careful what you wish for, as now, I would give anything to get that darn mutt out of my bed!

Originally, the plan was that Lulu could get in bed as soon as it was light outside. Yes, I know that this is a faulty plan since we could never quite effectively communicate this idea to her. All she understood was, "Sweet, now I'm allowed on the bed." Little by little, she began jumping in bed at an earlier time. Sometimes she was like a ninja and neither of us even heard/felt her, while other times she would land on some part of my body, causing me to curse her, visions of newly forming bruises floating through my head while trying to fall back asleep.

Lately, her bed interloping has become even more brazen, as if it is her God-given right. At some point during the night, I will usually wake up freezing cold, as the covers have been pulled off of me. I will be relegated to the tiniest little edge of the bed, alarmingly close to toppling off the side and Lulu will have her ENTIRE body smushed into me as if she is trying to accomplish this final feat. 

What is most interesting about the whole situation is the fact that Lulu has somehow acquired the ability to transform her 65 pounds into at least 250 pounds of lead weight. I have about as much success moving her when she is splayed out on the bed as I would trying to pull a semi-truck with one of those straps around my forehead. Also somewhat bothersome is waking up with your dog's face less than 1" from your own, her nose pressed against yours, as if performing some odd form of doggie nose-to-nose resuscitation. Move your nose, she moves hers. Seriously, it's kind of weird. 

I decided that I just couldn't take it anymore and she needed to sleep in her own bed so, the other night, we started out with her in her bed. At about midnight, I woke up to a tiny pathetic little whine. I turned on the light and Lulu was sitting sweetly right by the bed looking at me with the saddest little puppy dog expression. Her little eyes could barely stay open and she put one paw on the bed and let out a tiny whimper. I screamed as loud as I could, "GET IN YOUR BED! NOW!" and she headed back to her bed and hasn't tried to get in our bed since. Yeah, so anyways, that is my dream version. What really happened was that I was a complete pushover and let the little punk back in bed. She has been bugging the bejesus out of me every night since.

Dear Lulu,

Dear Lulu,

I thought that the time has come for us to have a little talk. It has come to my attention that maybe you have become just a tad too interested in the potty goings on of both yourself and others.

While it is quite amusing to watch you in your tripod potty pose straining and contorting your neck to be able to view what is happening back there in realtime, given that you go potty several times a day and are now over 8 months old, I would think that maybe you would have realized by now that, yes, the same thing comes out every time. It's like you think that maybe, just maybe, one time you'll look back and be pooping jerky bones. I hate to break it to you little Lu, but I don't think it's gonna happen and, if it does, you'll still be the first to know, whether you're looking at the exact moment or not. Meanwhile, losing your balance while trying to see and falling into your poop on a daily basis is not cool.

I have also been asked by Bella, and a host of other dogs that have been intruded upon, to suggest that maybe it would be possible for you to back off a bit while other dogs are doing their business. Running up to dogs in the park and putting your face 2 inches from their junk mid-business is not especially appropriate behavior. Might I suggest that you could establish say a 4-foot privacy zone around all potty-going dogs, which you could stay outside of until all processes have been completed. Then, have at it, and explore to your hearts content. I promise your won't be missing out on much.

Lastly, both Scott and I would like to request that the privacy zone apply to us also. I know it might be a surprise to you, but having you run up to me and literally try and stick your entire head between my legs while I am "otherwise occupied" seems just slightly weird to me. I mean maybe it's just me, but I'm not really comfortable with it.

Please know that I am in no way trying to stifle your, shall we say, uniqueness. I promise that, even if you adjust this one idiosyncrasy, you will still remain plenty "unique." Plenty.

Love, 

Me

Respect My Authoritah!

The following scenario happens at least once a day in our household. Each time that I head to the bathroom, Bella and Lulu follow me so as not to miss all the fantastically interesting things that happen in the bathroom. Bella usually plants herself down right in front of the door so that she can make sure that no harm comes to me and/or to prevent my escape through the small window above the tub. Lulu sits behind her, presumably helping to hold up the wall.

After I am finished putting my hair in a ponytail, washing my hands, or doing whatever one may do in the bathroom, I step over Bella and head to wherever I am going (usually my computer). After a few minutes, I will begin to hear a low whine/cry coming from the hallway. As per usual, the volume and intensity will continue to escalate until I go to see what, pray tell, could possibly be going on.

What is going on is that Lulu wants to get past Bella but is too scared to do so. There is, most likely, plenty of room for her to pass, but Lulu will sit there until Bella moves, at which point she will bolt past her, another dicey situation narrowly averted. This same situation happens in the car when Bella decides to lay down across the backseat, forcing Lulu to the back and away from the window that she is so keen to stick her mini-head out of. 

Most interesting to me is the fact that, for the most part, Bella is incredibly tolerant of Lulu. Just this morning, Lulu was trying to force Bella into playing with her by standing about 3 inches from Bella's head and barking her incredibly high-pitched bark incessantly straight into Bella's ear. Bella just sat there calmly ignoring the fact that Lulu exists, while I, on the other hand, was furiously Googling puppy voice box removal on the internet. 

There are times when Lulu does get growled at, but that is usually when Bella is sleeping and Lulu strays a bit too close to Bella's rear end. I can only assume that Bella is somehow communicating some warning to Lulu that I am not aware of. Now, all I have to do is figure out how to channel some Bella mojo for myself then BAM, they won't know what hit them and I'll be playing them like a fiddle (I do realize this whole scenario is highly unlikely, but it doesn't hurt to dream).

I Heart Bella Bleu

Scott and I ended up with Bella because of my brother-in-law's dog, Desmo. Desmo was just an incredibly great dog and I loved him like he was my own. During the process of debating what kind of dog to get, we found out that Desmo's sister Scooby was expecting a litter. I could think of nothing better than having a dog just like Desmo. We brought Bella home and quickly found out that Bella had no intention of being Desmo II (duh). While they did share some characteristics, such as refusing to go outside in the rain and stubbornly locking up at any moment during a walk, usually in the middle of a busy intersection, she completely missed out on the traits I was so looking forward to such as being affectionate and wanting to snuggle up with me on a couch or bed.

Bella is her own dog and does things her own way. She does not give love indiscriminately, it needs to be earned. People are drawn to Lulu because she is pure love and happiness, while Bella is a harder nut to crack.  She is uncomfortable, ill at ease, and nervous around new people and situations. I understand that, I am kind of like that too. I wish I could scoop her up and make it all okay for her, but I can't, as that would be highly uncomfortable for her. There are many times when she does need love and affection, but it is usually in a standing position, in order to hasten a speedy retreat if necessary. 

What Bella is, however, is incredibly loyal. She is my friend. Actually, she is my best friend. We spend an enormous amount of time together, and have since she was a puppy. She knows what I am feeling and vice versa. If we are out hiking and someone approaches that worries me, she will, undoubtedly, growl at them. Not exactly cool, but you get my point.

People say that Ridgebacks attach to one person. I am her person. She loves me unconditionally. For me, it is a different experience to love something that needs you, and it makes me love her even more. I know if something happened to me, Lulu would be just fine, but I don't know that Bella would. Have I made her too dependent on me? Possibly, but it's a little late to change that.

When we got Bella, and then Lulu, we made a commitment to take care of them for the entirety of their lives. It is a commitment that I hope I have to uphold for an incredibly long time, as I cannot imagine my life without the joy that they bring. They are as much a part of my family as my husband, parents, and sister. I feel like, in many ways, Bella and I have grown up together. She has taught me so many lessons, the most important being how to love something/someone for what they are rather than what you want them to be. It is a lesson that, once accepted, makes for a much happier life. I am incredibly grateful for that knowledge. 

I am now going to go over to where she is laying and try and give her a hug. She is going to jump up, possibly growl, and run away thinking, "Geez, hasn't she learned anything yet?" I have, but I still hold out hope. :-)

Organic Beds

This is the first Girl and a Dog organic dog bed. It is made from a certified organic cotton/ hemp blend fabric which is just beautiful. The stuffing is recycled soda bottles and they are all hand silkscreened by moi. Bella and Lu say, "woof, woof, bed is awesome, seriously. now can I have some treats?"

Sticky Situation

Both Lulu & Bella love chewing sticks. In fact, Lu loves sticks so much that I got to wake up at 5:30 am to clean up a pile of sticks that she threw up (we're still working on the don't swallow the stick part). 

On Monday, we arrived at the parking area for our hike and the lot was full. The only time the lot is ever full on weekdays is, once a month, when a group of "older" folks come out for a hike. They are very friendly and we have never had a problem, with the exception of one time, when I spent a few minutes chatting with  a few of them and Bella took that to mean that they were now part of our group (Bella likes keeps track of whomever is in our group and waits for the stragglers). It took about 1/2 mile for me to convince her that they were not, in fact, part of our pack and that she could proceed without the 30 elderly hikers in tow.

On this day, the group was smaller and I pulled the dogs over to the side to let them pass. They all said hello and were walking past when Lulu noticed that several of them were using walking sticks/ hiking poles. Well, Lu set her sights on one man's stick and proceeded to do her BADUMP, BADUMP, BADUMP puppy approach, grabbed the bottom of his pole and tried and take it from him. All the other hikers thought that this was quite funny, but the owner of the pole? Not so much. So he starts trying to poke her to get her away from his pole but, of course, she took this to mean, "let's play," went down into play bow, grabbed the pole in her mouth and began violently shaking her head. After more shaking by Lu and pole poking by the man, I managed to wrestle her away from this poor man's pole and walked away. Actually, Lulu pranced away proudly, while I quickly scurried away, symbolic tail tucked between my legs

Tick Tock

When Bella was young, she had a trainer named Sapir. Sapir was a former dog trainer for the Israeli army. Sapir scared the crap out of us and we did whatever he said. Bella followed Sapir around like he was The Messiah.  I remember Sapir saying something which I now take issue with, albeit safely from my home halfway across the country. Sapir claimed that dogs have no sense of time. If you ever spend the afternoon in our house, not only will you feel quite sorry for me and run far far away as soon as possible, you will also come to the conclusion that Sapir is full of hooey. 

Bella eats twice a day, breakfast is around 7 am and dinner is at 4:27. Why 4:27 you ask? Well, I have figured out the 4:27 is as long as the time can be pushed without one of us losing our mind. The picture above was probably taken around 4:05. At 3:55,  she was most likely standing behind the sofa where I was sitting, letting out a moan to indicate that she might, in fact, fall over from starvation at any moment if I was not careful. I usually ignore her, at which point she comes over to the side of the sofa and lays her head on the arm, looking up at me with pathetic eyes and tries a new tactic, the moan/whine combo. 

As I  kindly provide her with periodic updates such as, "22 more minutes," her moany-whine progressively gets louder, more high-pitched, and more desperate. I continue to ignore her, so she usually runs around in front of me in hopes that it was only my lack of peripheral vision that was standing between her and her dinner. After realizing that this is not the case, she will come over to me, let out another moan, and stick her giant schnoz between me and whatever I am doing. I usually have to tell her that she still has 12 or so minutes left and she should probably go ahead and lay down. She will let out a dramatic groan, letting me know exactly what she thinks of me as she falls to ground with a thud. At this point her eyes are glued to me, waiting for any indication that it is time.

At the slightest movement from me (it could be a sneeze), she will jump up and race to the kitchen and sit waiting for her food to be served. I put her bowl in front her her, she has to wait until I say okay, and then she inhales her dinner. At this point, I have had to endure at least a half-hour of pre-dinner hell for the 30 seconds of sheer bliss she likes to call dinner. And, just for the record, God save you if you are busy at 4:27 because she doesn't care if you are about to take a phone call from the Dalai Lama, 4:27 means 4:27. 

Perhaps if we had actually heeded all of Sapir's training advice, Bella would be a normal dog that ate dinner at a normal time and I would be one Valium farther away from a stay in rehab, but where would the fun be in that?

Oilcloth Swatches

For those looking for swatches for the oilcloth collars, here they are.....

Hibiscus:

I wanna rock and roll all night....

and party every day.

From the Bella puppy archives. This is a real, untouched photo. I was simply taking it because her ears looked funny when, out of nowhere, Gene Simmons channeled her body. doo doo doo doo.

Saving Some for Winter?

When Scott came home from work Monday night he was all, "WHAT is wrong with Lulu's face?" Me: "What do you mean?" Him: "Um, HELLO, she looks like a chipmunk." I'm not really sure how I missed the fact that she appeared to have two super balls stuffed into her cheeks but I guess I'll have to give up all my dreams of winning any Mother of the Year Awards.

So Tuesday morning I took Little Bit to the vet. The diagnosis? "Hmm, I'm not really sure what it is. Maybe she got bit. Try some benadryl." I must preface this by saying that I really do like my vet, but, call me crazy, I was hoping for a bit more insight. Furthermore, I kind of think that maybe some sort of diagnosis-less discount could be in order. I'm not asking for free, as I did take her time but, let's be real, I took her time in order to find out what was wrong with my dog and ended up walking out with little more than I came in with, with the exception of the possibility of a peaceful benadryl induced afternoon. I guess that's worth something.

When I got home, I posted on my breeder's Yahoo Groups page and within minutes received several replies saying, "Oh, that happened to my dog too. They told me he/she swallowed a bee," and, while I suppose it is possible that there is a rash of bee-eating Ridgebacks on the loose, I am somewhat dubious. All these replies did, however, provide some much-needed reassurance that she would be fine eventually. I will have to admit I was a bit disheartened to find the general consensus was that the benadryl was not necessary. Then I decided it's probably better to be safe than sorry. Right?

P.S.- Lu wanted me to send this picture along to show Bella isn't the only one that can be a wanker winker.

Because there is nothing cuter than a puppy...

Since I have absolutely nothing better to do, such as making the 9 million collars that I need to, I spent the morning looking at sweet photos of Bella and Lulu as puppies and decided to make my very first mosaic. Not exactly a work of art but cute nonetheless. There are 9 Lulu's and 11 Bella's. Sorry Lulu, just a mistake that I was too lazy to fix. Enjoy!

A Sad State of Affairs

Today I was starving, so I opened the freezer in search of something to eat. Here is what I found:

2 bags raw diet chicken patties (for Bella, not me)

1 bag raw diet venison patties (smells just like you would imagine it to)

1 bottle Tito's Vodka (precariously close to empty)

1 roll Raw Advantage Organic Chicken Dinner for Dogs

1 bag with remnants of an entire cow femur that was cut up for the pups 

1 bag mini York Peppermint Patties (my kind of patties)

1 Amy's Organic Cheese Pizza

1 box Morning Star Veggie Cakes 

1 Pint Haagen Dazs Light Mint Chocolate Chip (good stuff)

1 box Caribbean Mix Frozen Fruit Bars (would probably be fab mixed with the vodka)

1 pint Haagen Dazs Raspberry Vanilla Swirl Frozen Yogurt (probably smells like meat)

After a delicious lunch of of veggie cakes and peppermint patties, I was thinking that, given that we have completely given over the freezer to the dogs, you would think that the least they could do is to learn how to run down to the store and fetch mommy some more Titos.

Yuri Cooper

This is Yuri Cooper. Yuri is a friend of Bella's from California. I always thought that Cooper was his family's last name but it is not. It is just Yuri's last name, which I think is pretty funny.

Yuri lived in Sausalito before he was a victim of a broken home and had to relocate across the Golden Gate Bridge into the city. Rest assured, Yuri had quite the life in the Marina, and continued to spend lots of time in Sausalito with his BFF Tucker.

Living in Sausalito is an interesting experience, as it is a huge tourist destination, especially in the summer. Tourists from all over the world walk down the streets, usually freezing, as they thought they would be visiting sunny California and instead got fog and highs in the 60's. Actually, August in Marin, or Fogust as I like to call it, is one of the things I miss most about California, especially on days like today, when we are all so excited because it is only 95, rather than in the 104 of yesterday. Yoo freaking hoo. ANYhow, I digress.

Yuri Cooper had a unique habit that I have never known another dog to have. If Yuri were to pass by a piece of discarded gum on the sidewalk, he would pick it up and proceed to chew it. That isn't even the best part. He would seemingly decide if there were enough flavor left to warrant his chewing and, if not, spit it back out. If the already-chewed gum was deemed still chewable, he would continue to walk down the street chomping on his gum like a teenage girl until he was finished, at which point he would spit it out and be on his merry way. 

So, if you are ever visiting the Bay Area and see a handsome Vizsla walking down the street chewing gum, stop and introduce yourself to Yuri Cooper.

Sludge Puppie

I'm just saying.....

If you take a really big whiff, you can probably still smell her. 

Puppy Porn

The innocent look is all an act.

Warning: The following may not be appropriate for all readers, especially those offended by accidentally coming across porn on the internet.

I recently received an email from a person, whom I do not know personally but is in a group I belong to, strongly suggesting that I change my URL because "if you mis-type it," you may be shocked and appalled to find yourself on a porn site. So I was kind of like, "well, um, if you type it correctly, you don't." That isn't really what I wanted to talk about but it has been bugging me a bit and I couldn't pass up the chance to use it as a segue to my Puppy Porn story.

There is a dog at the park named Joe. Joe is a 2-year old dog that looks just like a Golden Retriever but he is black, so he is obviously not a Golden Retriever. Joe is 100% enthralled with Lulu. Actually, Joe is 100% enthralled with humping Lulu. The last time we ran into Joe, he didn't care about playing, he didn't care about swimming, all he wanted to do was hump Lulu. Even more strange, there was another dog that would not let Joe get close to Lulu. It was like a very dysfunctional love triangle. Every time Joe tried to get to Lulu, the other dog would intervene, barking and keeping Joe at bay.

So today Lulu is playing with her new friend Blue and I see Joe running towards Lulu. He immediately jumps on Lulu and starts humping away. Blue, unlike no-name dog from above, saw no need to protect Lulu's virtue and ran off to find fun elsewhere. Meanwhile, Joe's owner is telling me that the love affair is about to experience a tragic demise, as poor Joe is getting fixed tomorrow. While I am contemplating the end of Joe's masculinity, someone says, "Oh my God, look!" I turn around to see Lulu laying FLAT on her back, legs splayed in the air, and Joe doing dirty, dirty things to her. Seriously. I would not kid.

I'm guess I'll just be thankful that I have a dog, not a daughter, as I have apparently, unwittingly, raised the town tramp that has no problem having sexual acts performed on her in the middle of the park. I would just like to note that I am sure that she inherited that trait from her father, not me.

Dirty Bird

This is Lulu's favorite toy which we have named Dirty Bird. Dirty Bird was originally purchased for Bella but was apparently not quite up to her high standards and lived at the bottom of the toy pail. Somehow Dirty Bird didn't even rate being gutted and torn to shreds. We are not sure what kind of bird Dirty Bird is, but Lulu loves Dirty Bird. Somewhat similar to the stories of dogs that will nurse abandoned kittens, Lulu saw the potential in Dirty Bird as replacement for her dog mom . Since then, Lulu has spent countless hours nursing on Dirty Bird.

Dirty Bird must be nocturnal because it only comes out in the evening. After a long day of doing whatever crazy things Crazypants does, she will settle on her pillow with Dirty Bird. Thus begins the ritual. If you look closely, you can see the dirty, hard areas under the wings. This is where Lulu does her suckling. She kneads her paws as she literally sucks the fur under Dirty Bird's wings (see video below but please turn down your volume unless you just happen to be looking for some tips on how to live greener from "Living with Ed").

Suckling Dirty Bird's fur must be incredibly comforting to Lulu as, inevitably, her little paws start moving a little slower and her sweet eyes start getting droopy. Her head starts nodding and then she falls asleep with Dirty Bird still in her mouth, only to wake up and start the process over again. This is somewhat like the guy on the airplane who nods off then startles himself awake only to start nodding off again. Somewhat, but significantly cuter. This can go on for a REALLY long time until she finally gives in to sleep. At this point we all dance a jig and praise God that she is actually asleep and peace has been restored in the house.

As I am sure you can imagine, all this sucky sucky on poor Dirty Bird has taken it's toll. The bird is downright crusty. I mean hard crusty. When she is done, Dirty Bird looks like it could be the poster bird for Excessive Bird Armpit Sweating Disorder. I have looked all over for a replacement bird but so far no luck. I have also tried to substitute newer, cuter, softer critters but alas, like Cindy Brady and Kitty Carryall, she won't be fooled by some imitation Dirty Bird. If anyone knows where to find a new, clean Dirty Bird, please let me know.

Oilcloth Collars

My oilcloth collars are hitting the stores today. They are super-fun summer goodness, the canine equivalent of the hawaiian shirt.

Lulu is sporting the Vintage Cherries which i love love.

Bella is wearing the Red & Aqua Floral.

As you can tell, they were pretty psyched to do some doggy modeling for me.

Actual Playdate

Bella, Lulu, and I had a great morning out in the country. This is what happens when 6 Ridgebacks, 1 Great Dane, and a Schnauzer meet Milly the donkey and her horse bodyguard.



And no, Nikki did not get kicked in the head. At least not that we could ascertain.

Virtual Playdate

My sister sent these photos of Bella's favorite friends this weekend and I thought it was time for a virtual play date. That's Bella's BFF Winnie, whom Lulu reminds us a lot of, and Cooper and Dylan, a.k.a. "the Wiener Brothers." If the world was perfect, I would load them all up in the car and take them to Stinson Beach. Stinson brings out the crazy in every dog. The moment the paw hits the sand it is sheer pandemonium, with dogs running, the ridgeback body slam (sometimes used on unsuspecting Labs), and lots of bird chasing.


This is a photo at Stinson of Bella, Winnie, and Uncle Mo. It was the last time that I got to take Desmo to Stinson before he got sick again. For a bunch of dogs that don't like water, they LOVED the beach. They would play so hard that, almost without exception, one dog would go down hard squealing like a ninny, leading us all to believe that they had been mortally wounded. A plan would be hatched about how to best transport an almost 100 lb dog back to the car. Concerned onlookers would offer aid and ideas of how to best make a stretcher from items on the beach.

While debating whether we thought a helicopter would consider an ailing Ridgeback worthy of a Life Flight, the dog would inevitably get up, limp around whimpering a bit, then TAKE OFF full speed looking back as if to say, "What are you all standing around for? Let's GOOOOO!" It's a good thing that the vet was always at least a short distance away as thousands of dollars must have been saved by one of the dog's miraculous recoveries from the brink of death on the drive there.

Sadly, the beach is not a part of Lulu's puppyhood. I suppose we could take the dogs down to one of the Texas beaches but I have a feeling that Bella would get out of the car, walk to the edge of the beach, look, look at me telepathically communicating, "what kind of *#!%hole beach is this?", turn around, and trot back to the car, thereon refusing to budge. What can I say, Sister knows her beaches.

How to Create a Monster

Ingredients:

1 OCD (obsessive-compulsive dog)

1 blanket

1 dog bed

1 bad idea

Living in Sausalito, evenings are cool, whether it be summer or winter. Even when the heat waves occurred, you would  be back in your fleece by sundown. We slept with a big down comforter on our bed and blankets on top of that. Bella slept beside our bed on her pillow. Scott became increasingly concerned about Bella's level of warmth and, one day, decided that she needed a blanket (cue music of impending doom).

He thought if we were cold she must be cold also. I tried pointing out the fact that she had fur and we didn't but he was not to be swayed by petty logic. Scott started putting a blanket over her when she went to bed. Sometimes, if he deemed it "really cold" she got double blanketed. We had plenty of blankets because Scott seemed to receive a blanket from his family on every holiday. Some were even monogrammed, which was very thoughtful, but a bit odd when your monogram is also a communicable disease (SAR).

Bella took to the blanket idea like white on rice. Only problem was that she didn't sleep in one place all night. She would wake up, do her spin move, and the blanket would inevitably fall off. Being the smart girl that she is, she would just paw at the bed until her blanket was put back on. It could happen once a night or it could happen five times. If the pawing didn't work, she would add the whine. The paw/whine combo never failed her.

I decided there had to be an easier way so I designed her a cape. I took a fleece blanket, cut a neck hole in it, and voila, there was her sleep cape. I was pretty excited to try it out and was singing my own praises at what a brilliant solution I had come up with as we went to bed. During the night Bella woke up, spun, and went back to sleep. Sucess! Genius! Except the next time she woke up, she stepped on the back of the blanket, spun, and front leg came out of the neck hole, trapping her in her cape. This continued to happen and was somewhat traumatic each time we had to dislodge her. Her cape turned back into a regular blanket and with that my dreams of dog cape fame and fortune died.

That was probably 4 years ago and she still sleeps every night with her blanket on. When we picked her up from the kennel recently the owner said "I thought you were kidding about the blanket but I did it anyway and, sure enough, when I would come in in the morning, she would still have the blanket on." This, of course, proved that she can keep the blanket on in emergency situations and if she knows there is no one to put it back on her.

Scott keeps trying to talk me into trading sides of the bed so that I have blanket duty. Instead, as a coping mechanism, I have learned to sleep with a pillow over my head. Scott calls it my pillow hat and I like it very much. Maybe next time it falls off, I'll try the paw/whine combo to get Scott to put it back on. :-)

Bella walking around bumping into things after getting up in the morning.

Hobbled by a Bic Pen

Graceful I am not. I trip frequently, run into things even more frequently, and am just generally accident prone. I attribute it to the fact that I am 5' 10" and only have a size 7.5 foot but that does not explain the freak accident that happened yesterday.

The offending instrument of torture

I loaded the dogs in the back of the car to take them on a walk and went to get into the driver's seat. There is a mesh pocket in my door where I keep, well, basically anything that gets stuffed in there. Today there was a Bic pen with about 1" of the writing tip sticking through the mesh. In a truly spectacular feat, I somehow managed to put the tip of it into my big toe. It took out a gash of skin right next to my nail and then seemingly plowed further into my toe, causing quite a bit of damage. Now I know I am not doing an adequate job of explaining, and I would post a picture of the actual injury but, given that every time Scott looks at it he recoils in disgust, I thought maybe it may not be appropriate.

My toe (in my cute new flops)

I am not sure when I have experienced such pain and pain, and I have a long standing relationship. It hurt so bad that I ended up calling Scott and asking him to come home. Not because he could do anything, but just having him here to share in my pain made me feel better.

I am confident that, given 1000 tries, I could not recreate this act. Scott asked me over and over to try and explain why my foot was where it was, shouldn't have been my other foot, was I inspired by the Olympic gymnastics trials and doing a running mount into the driver's seat? But no, I was just getting into the car.

As I was laying in bed last night, big toe throbbing in Fred Flintsone proportions, I cursed myself for quitting ballet classes as a child. I thought it was dull and boring. The only part I liked was jumping over the candlestick and, let's be realistic, just how long can doing split jumps over a "candlestick" fashioned from a toilet paper roll and some tissue paper be expected to keep one's interest?

Tiring Her Out is Making Me Tired

What do you do when it is 100 degrees outside and you have 50 pounds of crazy running through the house? Consider that a rhetorical question.

It starts at 7am, after breakfast. Bella heads back to bed to take a nap. Yes, she just woke up, but that is the joy of Bella. Meanwhile, Lulu proceeds to take out all the dry cleaning I have stashed in the back of my closet and place it randomly about the house. It just dawned on me that I could solve this problem by actually taking my dry cleaning to the cleaners but, realistically, that probably won't happen. Next, it is on to the shoes. Today, another flip flop was the hapless victim, along with 2 pens, a birthday card, and the fringe of a blanket.

I came up with the solution of taking Lulu to the hike and bike trail and walking 4 miles while Bella is taking her morning nap. Lulu is used to hiking off-leash so being on a leash for 4 miles is new to her, as is having to stay on one side of the trail, not being able to say hello to every dog and person on the trail, and not being able to chase squirrels willy-nilly.

She is doing pretty good with a few exceptions. Halfway through the walk is the off-leash area where dogs can swim. She jumps into the water and swims around until I make her leave. This is where it all goes downhill. Something about the water makes her crazy. Literally. She gets out with a renewed vigor that is frightening. Literally. She jumps around, all four paws off the ground, flailing through the air like a Mexican jumping bean. Not once, not twice, but many many times.

Imagine people staring at you because they think your dog is a nutter. Imagine sheepishly looking at the pity in their eyes and trying to explain that she isn't "really like this," that she is actually a pretty good dog. They look at you and nod, thinking that if this is a good dog to you then maybe you are the nutter. So I lasso her in the best I can and move on to the second half of the walk, head lowered, avoiding all eye-contact.

We get in the car, head home. It is now 9am and I am already tired. I open the door to be met by Bella patiently waiting, the look in her eyes saying, "Yea! You're finally home. I'm ready to go out now. Let's go have some fun."

Please send help.

Weed

Lulu is growing like a.

Welcome to My World

To fully appreciate the experience, locate yourself in a small room, turn up the volume to high (seriously, ALL the way up), then add a couple of guitars in the room for extra reverberation. Now hit replay 50-60 times, and try and make business calls.


I do realize that this is a video with nothing to see but, trust me, it's all about the sound. Also, be patient, the end is the highlight.

P.S- No dogs were harmed in the making of this video. They are, in fact, rolling around on the ground together. This is what they do for fun. All donations to my psychiatric fund will be greatly appreciated.

Bad Dog, Good Dog

Bad Dog

So not cool. My husband also took the opportunity to point out that no, my shoes are not made of cork, but rather made of cheap plastic and topped with an ever-so-thin coating of cork. Just in case you cared.

Good DogHallelujah and praise the Potty Gods! It has officially been TWO weeks without an accident in the house. I was seriously starting to believe that maybe we had a dog totally incapable of being trained or, worse, a dog so incredibly brilliant that she knew how to play us like a violin.

wink wink, nudge nudge

Bella in a winker. It is one of her hidden talents. The other day, Scott and I were in the living room discussing what we were going to do and whether we were going to take the dogs. Bella was staring at us intently. Scott said, "If you can understand what we are saying, wink." She did.


We are still waiting to discover Lulu's talents. In the running so far are: being ridiculously cute, not having an accident for six days straight (always six, NEVER seven) and bugging the bejesus out of Bella.

Bella may lose her Huskaroo modeling contract

Bella has been battling a weight issue for a while, about 3 years. About 3 weeks ago, at her vet appointment, she got on a scale for the first time in those few years. Like any reasonable girl, she loathes scales and has just refused to get on one so I just guessed her weight. I always said about 85 pounds. This time the vet tech lifted her onto the scale and I about fell over when the scale said 99 pounds!!!!

Over the years we have tried everything to get the weight off and nothing has worked. We even went as far as hiring a "doggy personal trainer." She already had a fabulous dog walker but this guy ran with the dogs. If you look at the website you'll see photos of him running with groups of dogs. What you won't see is a photo of Bella. Why? He probably forgot to pick her up that day (and several others).

We tried different foods, reduced the amount she was eating, got her thyroid tested, exercised her more, but still nothing. When she was boarding with her breeder I got an email (on vacation) calling me an irresponsible pet owner. I know she had Bella's best interest at heart, but I was crushed as I live for this dog and was trying everything I knew to get the weight off.

So fast forward to a couple of weeks ago and I finally decided that I was going to try the raw diet for her. I am not really into handling raw meat, even for my dinner, so I chose the "cheaters" raw diet which is already made up and frozen into patties for you. In the first 2 weeks she lost 3.5 lbs and I am thrilled. I am starting to see a difference and there is a definite increase in her energy level. I personally don't care what she looks like but I want her to be healthy and live forever like she promised me she would do.




Not a very good before picture but you get the idea. Also, my car is NOT emerald green. I know it looks emerald green but I really wouldn't buy an emerald green car. Not that there is anything wrong with it.

Dear Lulu

Dear Lulu,

I was just wondering if you could give me a little insight into why the idea of going potty outside is such a complicated concept to grasp. Sometimes it seems as though you have mastered it and I get really excited only to be let down again and again. Why do you take this joy from me?

And yesterday, could you please explain yesterday? The back door is open, you go outside and do your business then decide halfway through to come back in and finish inside. Is it the rug? I know the rug is ugly. I do not need a reminder of actual fecal matter on it to convince me of what you think of it. I agree.

If you could, please try and remember that an open door means that it is quite possible to walk through it and go potty in the yard. Going near the door is not quite what we are looking for. I know that you are very busy and have a lot on your plate but if you could just give this matter a bit of attention it would be greatly appreciated.

Yours truly,

Kelli