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?