Warm at last

I can't complain about the hot weather.  In fact I'm loving it.  I need to take frequent breaks indoors--my system can't acclimate that fast from days in the 60's F to days in the 90's F--but it feels really good to do simple things like give the puppies outdoor baths, and to have that liquid, languid feeling right down to my bones.  We've got plenty of water in the well, and the downstairs is nice and cool, which helps.

The seedlings are probably suffering, and may not survive the shock of going from wet, cold weather to dry, very hot weather in such a short space.  I'm giving them plenty of water in hopes of keeping their morale high so that they won't give up on me.  Failing that, I guess I'll have lots of nice, well-weeded, well-fertilized beds for fall crops.  

Now that the puppies are all clean and fluffy white, I won't feel ashamed to take them down to the river for wading and walkies.  I'd take a pic of them, but as soon as they finished shaking off they retreated under the porch, where the temps are fifteen or more degrees cooler.  It's their version of downstairs, and I don't blame them one bit for napping there all day.  Bonus--after a long afternoon snooze, as soon as the weather cools down in the evening--you haven't seen such racing about, barking and leaps of glee from big dogs.  

I wonder if they dream of winter.

All Animals All the Time

It seems like it's all animals, all the time around here lately.

Veronica had her first bath. (That's Veronica in the pic, but from last night, not today's bath.) She's exhausted from teh clean and fluffiness.

What actually got us started on the whole cat bath thing, though, was Lucky. He's gone into frequent grand mal seizure mode, as in last night he had four, and he's had at least one or two a day for about the past week to ten (out of the blue--this hasn't been building over time.) This up from having one once a month or so. He's on anti-seizure meds now twice a day. If his liver panel comes back eh then we'll have to reduce his dose, but for now we just want to halt the foaming at the mouth and spasms that last for a couple of minutes at a time. The poor kitty has been having some while standing up, too, and sometimes he recovers in that position, and others he flops over after a while.

All sadness.

But the good news is that he's otherwise healthy.

JR Bunny has something going on with his ears in the form of weird scabs. The vets were baffled. He got a Revolution top spot in case it's some sort of parasite they weren't able to find (no lice, no mites, no fleas ... nada!) and they sent him home with no real answers (though two vets and a couple of nurses all checked him out and scratched their heads and looked at lots of slides of samples taken from his quite clean though scabby earses.)

And then I decided it was well overdue time to worm (because it's been so warm!) the goaties and trim their hooveses. Trimming goat hooves actually isn't that bad, but it takes two people, so my much-suffering DH held heads while I trimmed feet. The goats I'm sure will be walking funny for a while until they figure out their balance points on their feet has shifted to better posture. It must be a lot like learning to stand and sit up straight after months of slouching. Doesn't hurt, but doesn't quite feel natural, either.

And then the DH and I jacked up the front porch a bit and put some fresh gravel up front for good measure. Where do the animals fit into this? Why, we had to do that because the big white floofy poopies (Brian and Finn) collapsed the porch's front corner by digging, and in the process brought the joys of mud to the normally graveled front entry.

It's not fixed, but it looks better, and it's not as dangerous getting up and down those steps. Still a bit dangerous, mind you, but if there was no danger, it wouldn't feel like home.

Winter Musings

Brrrr ....

This is the kind of weather (below freezing, wind chill sending us into the realm of unnecessarily cold, having to put warm water out for the barn animals twice a day) that inspires me to write a simplified life book. More on that in a sec, because --

What is it about the dumb, persistent myth that warm or hot water put out in the weather freezes faster than cold water? I heard this again the other day from someone and I was so dumbfounded that I couldn't bring myself to correct them. It defies the laws of thermodynamics, folks. If nothing else, consider that the warm water is cooled by the environment down to a temperature that qualifies as cold water, right? And that this takes time? And then, presumably, this now same-as-the-initial-cold-temperature water will take, what, less time to freeze employing what mechanism? I believe this fallacy must have come from some high school physics course in which the instructor explained calories and heating water and how much energy it takes to heat frozen water as opposed to liquid water. I'm not entirely sure but I suspect that someone took that data and extrapolated it incorrectly. The other thing that might be going on is that it's true that warm or hot water evaporates more quickly. Less water, less time to cool it down. However, I doubt that the evaporation rate reduces the amount of water overall (unless, possibly, you have a really small container) enough to increase the freezing rate.

Rant mode off.

My next project, after I'm done with the YA I'm working on, will be House of Goats. I proposed this at Kris and Dean's master's class and I've had very kind reminders ever since then that I have to write this book. Although I'm not basing House of Goats on my life, you can bet that all my Skunky stories will be included. And of course there will be dogs, and cats, and rodent infestations ... all the gory details of life on a small farm when you don't know exactly what you're doing and learn everything the hard way.

Well, not everything. Learning to make homemade blackberry pies wasn't hard at all. But then pie is notoriously easy.

The puppies have been enjoying life inside the house. They spend a few hours outside every day during the warmest part of the day, which they use for chasing each other around the yard and lazing in the sun, but the remainder of the time they're indoors napping in our living room chairs. The vacuum is my friend. Despite the added work, and the additional fuzzy people always getting in my way and underfoot, it's wonderful having them in the house with us. Aside from occasional forays into the litter box, they're really well-behaved animals.

No more sleeping on the bed, though. They take up more than half of a king-sized futon. The wedgie allotted to me when they're there is warm, but a little too cramped for comfort.

The Words Keep Coming

I'm still not moved into my office, so posts will continue to be sporadic and uneven, like life.

I've been writing like crazy the past few days, adding a lot of words to my Nanowrimo. I've also finished writing a new short story and will start on another short here pretty soon. My DH and I went a little crazy yesterday morning and came up with an alien biology that screams to be written about. More details as they emerge, skittering, from my flesh.

I love it when a good idea comes along and grabs me by the throat, but I don't actually need an idea, per se, to write. Like most writers I can go on and on just fine thank you about the human condition in all its dimensions--love and suffering, hate and pleasure, victory and lust, etc. There's plenty to write about in the regular, everyday world, just like there's plenty to paint all around us. It just requires a way of looking, the infamous artist's eye, to figure out what to write or paint about. It takes some practice but once the skill is there, it doesn't go away. Still, it's nice to have an idea take on a life of its own. It makes the writing that much more fun.

So I'm writing and settling into a post-convention routine that involves reclaiming my house from the Aaaaargh! Rats! and maybe even painting for Radcon. I haven't shown my watercolors in a while and I think it would be good for me to try to make that art show a deadline. I sold something at the last show I participated in, so I'm rather fond of Radcon's art show. They have the coolest stuff.

In other news, the puppies had a bath and spent the night in our bedroom to dry off (they have very thick coats this time of year and it takes a long time to dry out.) They tried sleeping on the bed, which worked out great for them (they took up over half of it) until they overheated. I was grateful when they decided the floor worked better.

It was nice to get a lick on the cheek to wake me up in the morning.

I'm still missing Beast very much, and so are the puppies. Lots of sad eyes and hearts looking for him, even seeing him for fleeting moments as memory intersects wanting. I got that song "Snoopy Come Home" stuck in my head for a couple of days. I've started listening to music while doing chores again to keep from slipping deeper and deeper into the pit of what-ifs that might have saved his life.

Last but not least, first hard frost this morning. We've had some good cold weather before this, but this is the first time I woke up to everything being white. Even our garbage bags outside had little white pebbles all over them--frozen dewdrops. Inside one of our metal posts, the ice formed a chaotic, delicate, criss-crossed stairway leading down into darkness.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Soon now, before we know it, the longest night of the year will be upon us, and we can begin to welcome the hope of longer days to come.

So far so good

Beast and the Puppies (that'd make a great rock band title) are doing fine so far.  No signs of distress, bleeding, or otherwise going downhill.  Although Beast whines to get let out to play with the puppies, he's happy inside watching movies with me or napping while I work on writing.  I could use a nap about now myself.  I had a short night.  I'll have an even shorter night tonight, unless I'm willing to walk Beast in a robe and slippers.  The weather being what it is, I'm thinking no.  Or I could skip my bath, I guess.  You know, if these are the toughest choices I have to face all day, I'm good with that.

Everyone else, according to the weather folks, had a nice, calm day.  We still have quite a bit of wind.  When they said it was about 20mph in Washougal, I thought ha!  This is not 20mph.  It's way too fast for paragliding, never mind the gusts.  But it's not 60mph+ gusts.  It is quieter in town, or was when I went in today for a hot date and a hot caramel apple cider.  I think it's just our location on the hill, above most of the trees, unsheltered by the hills that surround downtown Washougal.  When they said it was 37 mph in Corbett, I thought yeah, that's about right.

But enough about the weather.  

I've got my latest short story on the verge of its climactic point, which hopefully means I'm close to the end.  I've gotten to the islands (again!) on Masks, and I'm taking a deliberate vacation from the manuscript so that I can come at it fresh.  The issue, as I've mentioned before, is that the beginning gets worked on and polished and beautiful while the middle, where I'm tired, gets adjusted sort of haphazardly and then left to stare at me with large, undernourished eyes.  I was going to start in the middle, but I realized a. I need a new, better map, and all the mappy stuff happens in the beginning (meaning I'd have to reread it again anyway because I can't make sense of my navigational notes anymore) and b. I got some really great feedback on the opening chapters and I wanted to make those larger cuts and adjustments before I got to the islands, in case there were any emotional changes (there weren't.)

With Cold Comfort Farm lying on the cutting room floor, I'm at a more marketable length, which is handy.  Yes, fantasy generally gets a little more room, but the shorter it is, the less likely that an agent will look at the word count and decide my gawd, this is going to be a bloated, purple monstrosity.  I would prefer that, if that is the opinion, that it come from reading the pages, not the cover page.

Another Dog Day

You know the mice under the dishwasher?

I set traps, and for days they've been empty.  The mouse smell won't go away, because the flooring under the dishwasher is soaked with mouse nest.  And that nest is huge.

I did something really, really stupid.  I got a poison trap for mice.  1 oz pre-baited.

I read the label and it said that if an animal caught and ate a poisoned mouse, it would be poisoned too.  I chickened out of using the trap.  Good, right?  Well, sort of.  I triple wrapped in in plastic bags and had the boy take it out to the garbage so that Dakota or the cats wouldn't knock over the garbage can in the middle of the night and get into it.

So many should haves, could haves ...

The wind rolled the garbage can within reach of the dog enclosure.

When I saw the garbage can on its side by the gate, I thought oh no, you've got to be kidding me.  When I opened the door, Brian nicely handed me the empty mouse trap.  

All the dogs went to the vet, and they're under a vet's care.  So far so good.  But after inducing vomiting in all of them, we determined that it's likely that Beast got most or all of the poison, and not enough of it came up to put him out of danger. 

He feels fine.  He's happy to be in the house.  But he could start bleeding internally.  We don't know.  He's on a treatment that help counteract the poison, and he gets canned dog food with his vitamins to help absorb the treatment.  He's in pretty good shape, and has no idea what all the fuss is about.

The puppies are on the treatment too, just in case.  They get to be outside and have regular fun.  But Beast has to stay in, avoid any rough and tumble stuff to avoid bruising, and be treated with kid gloves for about three weeks.

I'm so scared I'm going to wake up and find him gone.  

He sure knows how to get into trouble.  The airedale is strong in this one.

So wish us luck.

The really, really stupid part about all this?  I've never bought poison for rodents before.  Ever.  I'm against it.  I talked myself into it because the traps weren't working, and if I hadn't done that, or if I hadn't talked myself out of it and locked that trap under the dishwasher where no animals could get to it, we wouldn't be going through this.

Don't buy rat poison.  Don't talk yourself into it.  Just don't.  You'll sleep easier at night.  Trust me on this one.

Me Aminals

Here we are toward the end of August and, surprisingly, all the animals appear to be healthy and happy. 

Dakota, all of a sudden, has decided to develop arthritis, but it's not too bad.  The vet checked her out and everything.  She's getting around pretty well for a twelve year old--at least I think so.

Huntress, Lucky, Kat and Wiz are all shiny and pesky.  They've invented

 all kinds of fun new games revolving around my bed and waking me up several times during the early morning until I give up on sleep and play with them.  Some faves are race across the bed, walk on mommy's hair, king/queen of the bed (which involves hissing,) chase the feet, make a tunnel in the blankets, and paper bag dash at the foot of the bed.  

The Wiz-dom has his own special game that makes tv time interesting.  He chooses the lap of the person who wants him the least.  The rest of us can make Gne-gne-gne noises all we want--he will not be swayed by promises of face scrubs, deep massage or belly rubs.  

The livestock is in good shape too.  I didn't get a good pic of the Smartest Chicken in the World, but the goats all posed nicely for me.  Spike is looking particularly handsome.  Here he's wearing pure white Boer-Saanan wool with designer horns and matching hooves.  He always looks smashing on the catwalk.  Beard by Beastie Nature.

The puppies and Beastie are ready for some diversion, but alas the Nissan is still stuck in the grass, and I'm not taking the hairy army in my nice new(ish) Corolla.  So, we're going to start walking around the neighborhood.  I know, that's not nearly as fun as going to the river and getting all wet and muddy, but it'll just have to do.  It's either walkies or a rebellion at this point.  When I'm so foolish as to jingle keys, they think that's their leashes and they go bananas.  Poor things.

That's all for the animal update.  Next on animal update--September vet trips.  Yay, a trip to the pet to get some tots!

Fame

This morning on the way out to the car we were, as always, mobbed by the Sea of Unconditional Love: Brian, Finn and Beast (we miss you Nikita!)  Jostled, panted-on, we swam to the gate.  Both of us are accustomed to keeping our feet in this situation and unlatching the gate while being swarmed.  These dogs do not jump on people--they have better manners than that--but they are large and tend to circle their people and sometimes hop their front legs onto the porch rail or the large doghouse on the porch putting their faces near a human's face level (and incidentally making it impossible to get by without either pushing them down or commanding them down and then waiting for them to get around to it.)  

It's amazing that I used to make it to work relatively undishevelled when I think about it.  

While the boy waited for me to unlock the car after I clipped the gate so it wouldn't open should Beast nuzzle the latch (like a Jurassic Park velociraptor, Beast constantly tests his fence, heh) the boy started to grin.  "I guess we know what it feels like to be a celebrity."

I had to laugh.  Yep, we're mobbed every time we leave the house and every time we arrive back home.  

My Dog Lick Dog World

I got a question about what kind of dogs I have from someone thinking about getting dogs.  The images here are clickable if you want to see them full sized.  I kept them small for sanity's sake.

The thing about dogs is that they're the most wonderful animals in the world if you get the right one.  So far all my dogs have been the right one, sort of.  Bear in mind that I base the

 following stuff on my experiences.  There are others with far, far more experience and education than me and I may be dead wrong on some points.  Also dogs are individuals and breeding doesn't define everything about who they are.

We have two Great Pyrenees crosses.  Finn is more lab-like, and Brian is more golden retriever-like.  Since they're brothers, it's likely that mom was a Great Pyr and had an interesting night out around the fields, though the story given to the shelter was that she'd been with a golden retriever.    These dogs are my favorite dogs, but Great Pyrs tend to roam and if they get out they could be gone for hours or even days.  They're bred to be very independent.  They make their own decisions and can decide, if given a command, to not obey if they think it's in the best interest of whomever they've bonded with.  They're livestock guardians and are born to roam with herds of sheep over thousands of acres.  They'll stay with and defend wounded livestock (or you) and are very courageous.  They're gentle and nurturing, but if they're disciplined physically they will learn that physical punishment is okay when warranted and will of course then decide that they can physically punish someone or something else for transgressions.  Great Pyrs are best handled by experienced dog people.  Our cross breeds are not as aloof and independent as a full blood and are somewhat more obedient, especially if there's food involved.  They've run off before, which is terrifying.  But they are probably the most loving, beautiful dogs I've ever owned.  They need lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of space to run.  We have a large run for them and it's not big enough in their minds.  In their minds, about a five mile radius is a good run size.  They also are better outside than inside dogs.  There isn't a house big enough in the world for them and they will play in the house until the house falls down around them.  They also overheat easily.  A full blooded Pyr likes temps around 20 degrees F.  Our part bloods are happiest around 30-40 degrees F and wilt in summer.  Living in a year-round hot climate wouldn't be good for them.

We also have an airedale terrier mix named Beast.  This is another

 hard-headed stubborn dog (why am I attracted to the stubborn ones?)  He's a rough-and-tumble, sturdy guy who will forget that anything in the universe exists if he catches wind of a deer.  Since we're in deer country, when he gets out he'll run for miles.  Once when our dogs escaped, Brian came home, probably thanks to his love of comfort and his more people-loving golden bloodline.  Finn and Beast, on the other hand, were gone for five days.  Finn might have come home sooner, but I suspect that Beast either fell in the ravine or he got so caught up chasing the deer that he couldn't quite remember his way back and Finn of course would never, ever leave a friend stranded.  (I suspect that Brian will abandon a friend if the friend is being stupid, hence Brian being missing only until it started getting dark.)  Finn led the way home when they came back.  He probably knew the way all along but Beast probably didn't figure out that he should follow him until, well, five days had gone by.  If Finn hadn't been with Beast, I'm not sure Beast would have found his way back by himself.  Airedales are born to run and I think they are more beautiful to watch than a greyhound when they're on the chase.  They're extremely intelligent and will learn obedience and tricks quickly--and not just tricks you teach them.  Beast learned to lift the gate latch on his own just by watching us.  They will generally listen to you (unless they smell something good) but they'll think about it and take their time getting around to sitting or coming or whatever it is you ask them.  They need lots of space and are a terror in the house when you first let them in because they want to explore everything all the time.  Once they're settled they're fine, until they decide it's time to explore yet again just on the off chance that a deer or rabbit has found its way inside since the last time.

Nikita is our german shepherd.  She is the most amazing dog in the world.  They're one of the most popular breeds in the world, and for good reason.  In my opinion it is unnecessary and even dangerous to train a german shepherd to be a watch dog, and irresponsible to train them as an attack dog.  Believe me, they will watch and attack without any training whatsoever.  If you're nervous, they're nervous.  They're very responsive to their owners and it's easy to bond with a german shepherd.  They're also naturally territorial and usually will not roam and will fiercely defend the fenceline or threshold.  The challenge is to teach them to trust strangers and to wait for you to decide if a situation is dangerous or not.  They need lots of love, and they need to feel safe.  Once they're there, you will have an excellent companion for life.  These dogs can adapt to most living conditions but if they're in an apartment, especially when they're young, they need lots of exercise.  If they don't get it, they (and you) will pay for it in health problems later.  As they age they'll slow down like our Nikita and will sleep for long hours in a semi-alert state.  Until they go deaf they'll wake at any disturbance and bark until the problem is gone for several minutes or until you tell them it's okay.  For this reason some people have problems with their german shepherd, especially if the dogs are left alone, because they will bark non-stop for hours and hours if there are constant disturbances or simply because they don't know where you are and they're calling to try to get you to come to them.  BTW disturbances include neighbors working in the yard, cars driving by, people talking on the phone next door, etc. so this is not an animal you can leave alone unless you live on large acreage and even then only if you have forgiving neighbors.

Last but not least we have our wonderful Dakota who we fondly refer to as a miniature Irish wolfhound, meaning she's only 83 pounds thanks to the labrador retriever in her blood.

  Although they were bred to run down large game (and destroy wolves) unlike the terriers wolfhounds will not by choice run after other animals to the ends of the earth.  You can successfully call them off the chase without having to override their biological programming.  They're great house animals, despite their size, and become very inactive, even lazy when confined to an apartment.  They should be taken out for long walks to keep them from turning into complete slugs.  If they're left outside they adapt to outside life well, but they are one of the most human-needy animals I've ever owned and want to always be near their people.  If they're not, they easily become depressed and lonely.  Dakota is a very quiet dog.  She seldom barks, and her warning bark is one lone, sharp bark that is seldom followed by a second bark.  She prefers to watch rather than listen for problems, which probably explains why she likes to stay close.  She wants to keep an eye on things.  If she can't see it, usually it means it's not her problem, so she doesn't bark at cars or trucks, nor does she concern herself with other animals.  If she hears people making undue noise or pain sounds she immediately investigates and makes certain there's no hanky panky.  Rory has really been restricted to how much he can tickle or tease me now that we have Dakota.  She tells him when she thinks I've had enough with a long, level stare and we've decided we don't want to make her feel like she has to overcome her loyalty to Rory and intervene more stridently--that would be terribly stressful for her.  

My advice to anyone planning to adopt a dog:

Think long and hard before you get a purebred, especially a rare purebred.  Purebred dogs are often (not always) afflicted by problems that mutts usually don't have.  Depending on the breed they can have problems with hip displasia, skin allergies, food allergies, problems with hearing and eyesight, heart problems, digestive system problems like intestinal torsions, etc.  Some are more prone to attract fleas or are allergic to flea bites.  Some get worms readily.  Some have coats that require a professional groomer.  Dogs with very floppy ears combined with floppy skin are more prone to yeast infections and ear mites, and so on.  Most of all, I firmly believe that every family pet should be spayed or neutered, and if you own a quality rare breed animal you're essentially taking it out of the gene pool and if that gene pool is very small your adoption may endanger the breed further.  If you decide to keep the dog intact, you end up with all the problems and responsibility of a viable animal including heat, roaming, marking, territoriality, etc. and you get the added bonus of, when breeding, having additional vet bills and dealing with strangers and their animals.  If you do get a pure bred animal, become educated before investing in the breed.  Often there are wonderful purebred societies you can contact for information, and animals that were born outside standard requirements that make terrific pets.  Usually the breeder will have them spayed or neutered before selling them, and you'll get more info than you ever wanted about health risks and probably get a recommendation for a good local vet.  Educate yourself about puppy mills and try to avoid them.

When getting a dog, whether it's a mixed or pure bred, I hope folks will consider going to their local shelter or contacting a rescue society before going to folks who are gaining financially from breeding puppies in their house or worse, letting their animals roam and then getting away with their irresponsibility by foisting off their puppies on people who may or may not take very good care of them.  Many of these puppies end up in the shelter after new owners decided that they couldn't handle them anyway, so you'll be adopting the same animal you'd get in a newspaper ad.  It's important to talk to the shelter staff about your living circumstances and to allow them to guide you to an animal that they think would be a good fit for your household.  Shelter employees get to know their animals very well.  They know which ones are quiet, which ones are great with kids, which ones get along with other animals, and which ones might suit your personality.  Then spend at least an hour with your animal, whether it's at the shelter, at a breeder's location or in a private home.  It's very easy to get attached to the 'cute' one or to all of them, but try to be objective.  You may love that the little darling is chewing on your fingers, but remember that a chewy dog may chew long after teething is done.  The playful one that barks at you may be a very barky dog.  The shy one may be quiet and sweet, or it may have health problems.  

In general, look for a dog that is attentive toward you.  If the dog wants to please you, it will be much, much easier to train.  Look for a healthy, active animal that isn't frantic or wild.  Try to avoid fearful animals.  Nikita was a very fearful puppy who hid from us when we first met her.  Although I love her I know she's a biting risk due to her paranoia, so I'm very careful with her around strangers. 

 Although I adore puppies (like everyone else) consider adopting an older puppy or young dog.  The advantages are huge.  Often you don't have to house train the dog.  You'll have a better idea of the dog's disposition.  You'll have a much better idea of the dog's adult size.  Brian and Finn were both just under seven pounds when we adopted them.  (They were extremely malnourished and sickly.)  They're now just under 90 pounds, and no, they didn't have big paws until they were older (they're only a year old so they'll probably put on more weight and chest.)  Best of all, older dogs are past the teething stage so you can tell quickly if you're going to end up with a chewer that will slowly eat your couch down to a toothpick while you sleep.  Our latest adoptee, Dakota, we took in when she was 11 years old and it feels like she's always been here.  I don't miss raising her from a puppy at all.  

Also, when adopting a dog, if you know the house is going to be empty ten hours a day five days a week, consider getting two.  Dogs are pack animals, and a single dog at home alone is a stressed dog.  Not only will the dog be lonely, but there's a higher chance that it will develop behavioral problems due to stress.  Two aren't necessarily double the trouble, and two dogs definitely give more than twice the love.

I was going to try to keep this post short-ish, but here we are pages and pages later.  I hope folks found this information helpful.  For more information, take a snoop around the web.  There are even places that help you profile your lifestyle to help you choose a breed that's right for you.  Happy hounding!

Dogs in order of appearance:  Finn (facing the camera) and Brian age 1 year, Beast age 5 years, Nikita age 15 years, Dakota age 11 years, Sadie Sue (Kristi's gorgeous purebred miniature aussie shepherd) age 3 (?) Frey age 8 (and proof that having a mixed breed doesn't spare you from health issues--he was a very healthy puppy that developed food and skin allergies, early arthritis and died young) and Finn and Brian age 9 weeks.  Another aside--when you look at Finn and Brian's puppy pics they look healthy, right?  You have to touch the puppy you buy.  They weighed about half of what they should have at that size, less than our smallest cat, and felt like loose skin over dry bone.  Don't adopt a weak and underweight puppy unless you plan to give it full time care, access to puppy formula and/or high nutritional value puppy food, close vet supervision, and are willing to put up with lots of accidents, diarrhea, and sleepless nights worrying about your precious babies.  Thanks for reading!

Our Hero has Fur

Surprisingly, the dogs slept quietly all night.  Nikita did make a small mess.  No one had stepped in it so it was easily cleaned.  They poured out the door this morning to frolic in frigid freedom.  

It's supposed to warm up today.  Good.  I have to work so I can't let them in and out all day.  I worry about my poor old grand dame a lot.  We just can't seem to get any weight on her, and that lack of insulation makes the effects of cold weather that much worse.  Hopefully she'll snuggle up in the dog house.  I understand why she doesn't, though.  She's our sentinel, our guardian, and she doesn't want to give up her job.  Sometimes I wish I could tell her that we'll be all right, that she can relax, but I'm glad I don't have the opportunity.  If I gave in to temptation, how awful would it be if she decided that she'd been useless, or is useless, to us?  She isn't.  She's still our best watch dog, our most loyal friend.  I do think she could use a vacation, though.  As far as retirement, though--I couldn't see her retiring.  She's too defined by what she does, and I don't think anything we'd do could change that, even if we wanted to.  Nikita is the one who watches from the porch, who gets up and barks at strangers no matter how painfully stiff she is, who lets the garbage man know that he won't take our stuff from us without a fight, and who lets our across the street neighbor Chuck know that when he gets his mail, she's keeping an eye on him in case he decides to do something shady.

I do sometimes wish she had a softer life, or that we could give her a softer life without making her unbearably anxious.  I guess we could try, but I'd have to examine the deeper reasons and whether that would honestly be good for her.  She's a warrior, a brave spirit, a fine soldier and all the softness she's ever enjoyed was the touch of our hands and a proud word, letting her know that we appreciate what a good girl she is, and that she's loved.  If I could I might try to tell her how amazing she is, but I doubt she'd believe me.  Like Rory, I think she believes what she does is what must be done, and to do any less is unthinkable, therefore, what she does is ordinary.  Doing less would be to become less, to fail to do the minimum, to unmake who she is.

Four Dog Night

It's that time of year again when the dogs get to come inside due to inclement weather.  Nikita wants to go back out.  Beast has settled in for a nice nap.  The puppies want to escape into the main part of the house and play.  Because the barriers aren't steel I-beams and ferrous concrete, the puppies in particular could easily burst through.  I'm hoping that my force of will dissuades them from trying, even when I'm asleep.  If I hear a crash in the middle of the night and exuberant galloping, my backup is to have the bathroom ready and herd them all in there.  

I'm sure I'll have Nikita messes to clean up in the morning.  That's okay.  The others might be fine outside snuggled together in the doghouse, but she of all of them might suffer a cold injury or even die, because she gets into these stubborn fits where she doesn't want to go into the doghouse.  I watched her for several hours tonight, and it seemed tonight of all nights she was particularly reluctant to house herself.  

Right now it's easier to take the outside stairs than disassemble the internal barrier.  This is going to be interesting in the morning when, in pjs, fuzzy slippers and robe, I go get the kids out of bed for school.  I think I'll just set my alarm extra early, shower and get dressed before my morning tea.  I haven't done that in a long time, and it sounds ... good.  Wow.  Really?  Heh.  Guess I'd better get to it and get some sleep.  Sweet doggie dreams, everyone.

I'll be dreaming of my love.

Picture Day

We had gorgeous sunshine so I took some pics inside while I could. Top of my list, of course, had to be:

Dakota is a sad dog today. She misses her family. Maybe a bit of bacon will improve her spirits.

Wizard is comfortable enough with Dakota already that he rubbed up against her for snuggles. She jumped back because she's already been tagged by the vicious Huntress. I have a feeling Wizard and Dakota will become good friends.


That's a DOG? Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! Good one. What is it really? I'm guessing a giant tribble, which only confirms that the other dogs are Klingons. I knew that all along.

Dakota is very leery and nervous of the other dogs, especially the puppies who are far too boisterous for her. We're not pushing her. She'll be inside dog and they'll be outside dog and there's no need for them to form a pack. I suspect though that eventually, when the puppies calm down (sometime in three or four years?) she'll actually enjoy time outside with them. For now, we're keeping them separate. Poor Brian wanted to play so bad, and licked her face, and jumped around and ran trying to get her to chase him, basically making an idiot of himself to get her to like him. Her response? Attempt to leave. I put him back in with the sea of unconditional love, where he told the other dogs how awesome she was. Heh.

Irish wolfhound lab mix? Hmm. I haven't had a good close look at an Irish wolfhound face in quite a while. To me her face screams terrier. Any alternate guesses?

Getting things done

Around here it's been like "Getting Things Done with Delores". For non-fans (people with a real life?) of "Dead Like Me," Delores is a middle manager character who viewers discover has webcams all over her studio (except in the bathroom) where people can watch her getting things done. She describes it as pressure relief for those who want to get things done but don't have the same energy as her--and they find her inspiring. When the main character goes to stay with Delores she is taken a bit aback by the pace Delores keeps, washing dishes, vacuuming, changing light bulbs, putting up new contact paper in the cupboards (her blog viewers voted on which one since Delores couldn't decide between the two,) etc. Anyway, for whatever reason, be it seasonal, hormonal, meteorological, cyclical, lunar, solar, stellar, pschic or any reason beyond my ken, I've been on a cleaning binge. And when I go outside, I weed like a demon. Like the main character in Dead Like Me, I'm a bit taken aback by myself. I mean, good gods, I even ironed my altar cloth.

Anyway.

To answer a few questions (thanks for the comments!) the Nanopubye blog will eventually resurface at the newly redone Nanopubye site, when the webmaster manages to get to it. She has a lot on her hands, hoping to set up with a much less crash prone server. So all that content hasn't disappeared. The site did go poof without warning, due to a crash I presume, but no data was lost and all will be well. Unfortunately, until I update my confuter (someday) I suspect that the format will involve frames, which for me will mean I'll be reading things in long, single word columns and some options will be invisible. Such is life with an old Mac.

In other news, the garden and puppies are growing apace, and we have a visiting dog who will be staying with us for the weekend--perhaps you've heard of Ris' Beau. Although he's a decent-sized dog of much mixed heritage, he's the smallest dog. So far he's settling in nicely. Soon he'll wear himself out chasing, being chased by and playing and roaming with the other dogs and will probably take a long nap. Also in other news, the Nissan (pushing steadily towards 300,000 miles) had its engine light come on again (groan!!) and so I'm taking it in today, dreading the news. If the Nissan dies I'll be back to driving the awesome but gas-hogging truck. The truck is less gas-hoggy these days, though, as Rory discovered a loose hose that squirted gas (how the truck ran like that I'll never know) and plugged it back in. The gas odor whilst running vanished (no surprise there) and the gas mileage improved (also no surprise.) Still, with nationwide gas prices rising to equal the cost of Hershey's chocolate syrup, I'm not excited about driving another vehicle.

Best get to the auto shop. Mustn't slack off my pace, or my viewers will start complaining how I'm just not getting as much done around here a la Getting Things Done with Delores.

P.S. -- My new pov color is purple, same as the old pov color. So predictable ...

The Return

Well, it looks like it's official. The Nanopubye blog is dead, toast, gone, entirely inaccessible, even possibly deleted. I've emailed the webmaster for the site and maybe, just maybe, it got archived, but she said on the front page that she archived the *forums*, saying nothing of the dozen or so blogs that were reasonably active there.

Too bad, I guess.

Which means I'll have to employ brand new skills and increasing levels of craftiness in order to do what I love the most--create illustrated and entertaining full color posts on a very outdated computer--on this blog. It'll be a challenge. Sometimes I can access some of the pic-sites, sometimes I can't. We're talking one day I can access site X and do whatever and the next I can't, which brings to mind an image of a MIB-style operative smiling as he sees that I've logged online and holding his finger over two keys, one saying grant access, the other saying deny access, and the finger waggles between the two like a weird caterpiller. Hey, I might even be able to post movies, or links to them, eventually, as I get this all figured out. If so, y'all definitely got to see the puppies playing in the snow when they were tiny.

Tiny no more. The puppies have grown into seven month olds, aka white horses.

But I digress.

So this is the officially semi-new full time Kami blog, which may be a yay or a boo depending on your POV. Catch ya later!