Mistaken identity

We thought that Ceilidh (Kay-lee) might be under the mistaken impression that she's a Brussels Griffon, since she was raised with two of them. This weekend we got some proof.

Fran and I were outside doing some sprucing up when a very nice woman walked by with her Boston Terrier. We immediately went into "awwww, isn't he cute" mode and she came up to talk to us.

I went to get Ceilidh to introduce her to this handsome, young Boston boy. She growled at him. And kept growling. Ceilidh went back in the house.

The interesting thing we've noted is that Brussels Griffons always seem to know other Griffs and accept them. Roc and Golly are fairly uninterested in new dogs - except for Griffs. I guess there's a reason Ceilidh's confused - we can't seem to pick a breed and stick to it!

Ceilidh the Grump

Yesterday evening was Agility class, as is normal for Thursday. Ceilidh loves Agility - she gets some undivided attention, she gets to play with her Latex Soccer Ball (which I bring to class to entertain us both while we wait for our turn), she gets a yummy Chicken Z-Filet (spread over the evening, as her special treat for class), and best of all, she gets to play Agility!

When we get home Ceilidh usually tries to persuade us that she's not tired and she could play some more. We win that argument, though and Ceilidh finally concedes that she could use a nap. Last night she curled up in the Woofie Cushion in the family room and covered her with a throw. Golly didn't see Ceilidh and tried to climb into the bed. Ceilidh is not one for sharing, though, and growled at her big sister! Golly was quite startled to hear such vicousness from the bed and decided to try a different resting spot!

Princess Golly

We may have mentioned that Golly is a diva, prima donna, princess - you get the idea. Not that she's difficult to live with. Absolutely not! As long as we do what she wants, Golly is the easiest-going girl around. She'll eat anything we put in front of her, and try to mooch off the others. We always say that if Golly doesn't eat, she's going right to the vet! She loves going for walks, until she's had enough. Then she stops and we either drag her or pick her up. (Guess which it is?)

Golly doesn't play with toys much, until she decides it's playtime. Then she picks up the toy of choice and bounces at me with the toy in her mouth. Very cute. And then we play tug or chase the toy along the floor (no higher than two inches off the floor or the game is over). For about a minute, maybe two. Then Golly is done playing. I actually got her to play for about five minutes the other day!

Golly had a very promising Obedience career. We got her CD (Companion Dog) title in four shows (three legs are needed) with a second place in one. We were training for her CDX, the next title and then Golly decided she'd had enough. After several years of frustration it was clear that we were done. Maybe we'll try something different, until the Princess gets bored.

As natural as nylon

I guess 2007 is going to be the year I stretch my comfort zone. For the last two weeks I've been Dax's handler in agility class. She made it very clear to us that she's my dog, not Fran's, and she would very much appreciate it if mom would come to class, thank you very much.

So I have. It's not that I don't enjoy it - I do. It's really fun to see Dax running and jumping and having a wonderful time. It's just that I feel like the inert, fat kid that I was years ago. I have never been an athlete. Never took dance, karate, soccer, baseball. Okay, I lied about the soccer. I went out for the intramural team in junior high and dislocated my kneecap on the first day of practice. Running back into the locker room. Got the picture?

So, when the instructor tells me to move along the course as I naturally would if I were holding Dax's leash, I kind of look at her with a blank stare. There is no such thing as "natural" movement to me. I worked for months, with a metronome, to get my pace right for heeling in obedience. And had to do it all over again when I got a dog with a different stride!

I hope Dax and our instructor are patient with me. I need it.

Ceilidh's Disappointment

Ceilidh was very disappointed at Agility class last night. You may remember that last week she was a non-stop Agility fiend for a whole hour, only pausing for the other small dog in class to take his turn on the equipment set for the smaller dogs. Last night it was class as usual, running big dogs to little dogs, and Ceilidh had to wait her turn for half a dozen other dogs. We practiced some (to Ceilidh) non-fun stuff, like heeling, sits, downs, recalls, some tricks (give paw, spin, dance), but basically very low-energy things. She did not understand. And she lost focus three-quarters through class. I wanted to do a lead-out over three fairly easy jumps but Ceilidh had lost it. Oh well. Maybe next week.

Ceilidh just didn't understand why class wasn't all about her last night. (I wish it could be all about Ceilidh, too!)

The Boston Terrier Photo Blogger was nice enough to post Ceilidh's picture! She's smiling in the summertime...

Pitiful puppy

There are very few things in the world more pitiful than a sick puppy. And I mean that literally. Dax seems to have a cold this week. We're watching her for more serious symptoms, but for now she's just snorty and snotty and miserable.

Our perspective is shaded by the fact that we're starting with a French Bulldog. Who is snorty, snotty and rather placid to start with. Usually, though, she's also fun, comical, silly and cuddly. Now she just sort of follows us around and wants to be held all the time. Poor baby.

Picky, picky, picky

Yesterday our friend Sam came into the shop with his daughters Rachael and Jenna and his miniature dachshund Charlie.

We've known Sam for many, many years and love him like a brother. And like many little brothers, he doesn't listen to us. If he had, he never would have gotten Charlie. And we would have been wrong. Charlie's perfect for Sam's family.

I've never, ever met a more opinionated dog than Charlie. They brought him in to get a new harness. Knowing Sam, I knew that his first choice would be the basic black Step-In Harness. Charlie didn't like it. And, in all honesty, it wasn't the best fit for a chubby little dachshund. So I went to the Plaid Step-In Harness. It fit great, but Charlie hated it.

Onward. Next I tried the Freedom Harness. Not quite right for Charlie. Next I pulled out the Soft Harness. That was it. Charlie loved it - he stopped trying to scratch, roll over or otherwise rid himself of the thing.

The funniest part was that Charlie lets Rachael and Jenna (his human sisters) do anything to him! Jenna wanted Charlie to have a Jingle Collar for the holidays. So this little dog, who was struggling when Sam and I were trying to fit him with harnesses, stood like a rock when Jenna pulls this noisy, elastic thing over his head, tag still attached. What a good boy!

Sam was also looking for a new bed for Charlie. He (Charlie, not Sam) reminded me of Goldilocks! Too hard. Too soft. Ohhhhhhhhh, this one was just right! He rejected the Flipo Bed, the Donut Bed, the Memory Foam Bed and decided, rather obviously, on the Reversible Bed.

I think Charlie must take after someone else in the family. Sam's always been a pretty easy-going guy!