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.