Puppy kisses

Do you kiss your dog? I do. Especially Dax. There's something about Frenchie pulchritude that demands affection. So she gets it!
Roc is equally adorable, but doesn't really enjoy the attention. He'll put up with hugs, loves ear and chest scritches, but doesn't want to get kissed. It's almost like he's a human six-year-old boy saying "awwwww, mom!" He'll straighten his front leg and keep me at "arm's length."
Occasionally I'll respect his boundaries. But he's usually too irresistible!
My last Brussels Griffon, Whimsy, absolutely hated getting kissed on the top of his head. We let him have his way on the issue most of the time. But he was, possibly, the cutest dog ever in the history of the planet. (I'll have to scan a picture of him onto the computer - he was pre-digital photography.) And a friend of ours didn't understand why we let him get away with this particular foible. He'd even snarl if he saw lips approaching his forehead! (He never hurt anyone, just made nasty faces, which we laughed at.)
Our friend proclaimed that she'd never allow that sort of behavior. If she wanted to kiss her dog on top of his head - she'd do it! Then she got a dog. Who hates getting kissed on the top of his head. So I do it anyway.

Just a thought about celebrity

This morning I was watching "Regis and Kelly" while keeping an ear out for the municipal garbage truck. I wanted to give the garbage guys their Christmas present.
Brad Pitt was on - promoting his charity work in New Orleans.
It struck me as incredibly ironic that this man has the wealth and power to change the world because he's good at an incredibly trivial job.
I don't want to argue the value of the arts. I'm just saying that life is easier/better because Garbage Guys do their jobs.

Scratching our heads...

I got the results of Dax's blood tests back yesterday. She's perfect. Not fine, not okay, not even iffy. She's absolutely perfect.
So why is her fur falling out? Why is she always freezing? Why did she get snarky with her dog friends at class?
I'm planning to talk to a vet here who's into canine nutrition, holistic stuff, etc. She also does acupuncture, rehab, etc. I took Roc to play on her underwater treadmill when he had an issue this year.
If she doesn't have any suggestions for us, I'm planning to blame it all on Tessa.

Fun pics for the holidays!

Golly

Golly and MacDuff

Dax and Robbie

Ceilidh and her new favorite toy

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, all that good stuff!

Training and tagged!

Last night was Dax's and my first night at training in a while (vacation, flu, snowstorms - any excuse will do!) and I was surprised that she was a bit nervous at first. These are people and dogs she knows, in a place she knows. After we warmed up with a bit of heeling, Daxy seemed to relax a bit - until her buddy Buster (Cocker Spaniel) tried to horn in on her treats. My sweet little girl actually almost-snarled at him! Then she recognized who it was and settled - until her best-friend-in-the-world Ryder (Dobe) came up. And she snarled at him! I don't care how much she likes cheese - that behavior is not acceptable and won't be tolerated.
As she watched, from a "down, stay!" while Ryder and Buster got treats, her attitude adjusted nicely. I think we'll be going to training more regularly from now on.

Fuzzy Logic tagged me - 7 things that annoy me:

1: Shrieking children. Playing does not require sounds that make me wonder if I should call 911.

2: Drivers who can't decide which lane they're driving in.

3. Constant commercials for ED remedies. I was happy not knowing.

4. Spam. See #3.

5. Self-checkouts.

6. Self-righteousness.

7. Alarm clocks.

And 7 things that make me smile:

1. Seeing a friend's name on the caller ID.

2. My dogs.

3. Other people's dogs.

4. A bone-dry gin martini (tried North Shore Distiller's Gin?)

5. E-mail from friends

6. Watching Roc watch tv

7. Thinking about going to the Keys

This is Dax, happy and playful.
We haven't seen this Dax in a while. As a matter of fact, Dax is, more often than not, invisible these days.
She's under the covers. On the couch, in a dog bed or crate - wherever there's a throw, blankie or towel she can crawl under.
It was getting a bit ridiculous. It's really not all that cold in the house. So I took her to the vet. And I stood there and said "She's losing her hair, always cold, and lethargic - she doesn't even want to play." And the vet told me I'd just described some of the classic symptoms of hypothyroidism. She had a blood test yesterday. We'll keep you updated. But it's nice to think I finally have a dog paying attention to the textbooks.

Want to make the gods laugh? Make plans

It's been an interesting 10 days.
It's the busiest time of the year for us retailers. Golly Gear is both bricks-and-mortar and online.
So our webmaster's (Fran's) computer died. Defunct. Kicked the bucket. Gone.
Two of us, trying to work at one computer and not get in each other's way in a 400 sq. ft. store.
Problem solved - I got the flu and was out for three days.
I've got to say that having dogs is a mixed blessing when you're sick. There's nothing quite as comforting as warm, cuddly bodies snuggling close when you're under the weather. And nothing quite as uncomfortable as having to get up and walk the dogs when you're feeling lousy.
Especially when the next event is 10 inches of snow, gifted to us by the weather powers on Saturday. The next-t0-last Saturday before Christmas.
Today is a beautiful day. The new computer is working (knock wood), I'm fine (knock again), the sun is shining and all is right with the world. After a good laugh.

Requiem for a PC

My computer died last Saturday. Poor old thing. It was a good computer, but now it won't boot. Hope maintains that I drove it to an early grave (poor thing was just over 4 years old). It was not unusual for me to have five or six pretty intensive applications open at a time. Well, I use them all! Edit a photo in one, paste it to another. Check the email, print out orders, invoices and labels. Count them up! And, of course, I like to listen to my music while I work! I guess I should have ordered a new PC months ago when Hope first started bugging me to. Hope stopped in today, her day off and was horrified to discover that I was doing the same thing on her computer! Well, the next couple of days are going to be spent configuring the new one, which was delivered today! At least I was able to copy all the pictures of my babies onto a flash drive!

Broken squeakers

What to do with toys that have broken squeakers? The benefit of owning Golly Gear is that we have ready access to all sorts of great stuff. And the benefit of having dogs is that we have ready recipients for items no longer "sellable." We recently had to stop carrying some latex crabs. Cute as anything, but they didn't squeak like they were supposed to. We still had a couple in stock when we discovered this, so brought them home for the kids. Dax loves them! They've become her favorite toys. They have nice claws, and nice wide bodies. Dax steps on the body with her front paws and tugs on the claws or the eyes for all she's worth. She doesn't care one little bit that the crab isn't squeaking!

180 degree switch

Just occurred to me:
In the summer I bribe the dogs to come in the house.
In the winter I bribe them to go out.

A good thing about winter

So the weather gods very unkindly dumped about six inches of snow on us last night. It was actually a really pretty snowfall - no wind and big, fat flakes gently falling to the ground. This is what the side street by our shop looked like this morning. The best thing about it? I got to wear my brand-spanking new boots. It's actually not easy to take a picture of your own feet on purpose. I've done it loads of times unintentionally, but that's another story. So - what do you think?
Are these cute, or what?

Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning

I'm turning into a complete and total wuss. We've barely gotten a hint of winter and I'm already sick of being cold. The thermostat down at 65 degrees isn't helping - but we're such tree-hugging "do-be"s, that I can't justify turning it up to a nice, comfy 78.
It also doesn't help that Dax is an even bigger baby about the weather than I am. The dog I depend on to go for walks, play and be an active, energetic 3-year-old is found, more often than not, curled up under the afghan on the couch. Or plastered to the heating vents.
The only time I'm truly warm and comfy is snuggled in bed with my personal furnaces - Dax and Roc. I've never been a morning person. Mornings in winter should be outlawed.

Brrr ... It's Cold Out There!

It's starting to get really cold here in Chicagoland. It's to be expected at the end of November, of course, but the dogs view the changing of the seasons as a personal affront! Dax, especially, will look at us with a wounded expression when we open the door to usher the dogs out and she feels the chilly breeze (or gale-force wind as the case may be). Ceilidh at least will tolerate her coat but Dax doesn't like wearing clothes. We try to explain to her that the coat will make it feel warmer, but she just tries to scrape it off when we put it on her. Silly girl! Golly, totally opposite to her otherwise princess-like demeanor, doesn't care about the temperature. It can be 20 degrees or 80 degrees and she just doesn't care! She usually doesn't lie on the pavement in the sun when it's 20 degrees, though. Roc, typical boy, doesn't care about the weather either. There's one good thing about winter coming - the dogs are much less likely to sniff every blade of (dead) grass when it's cold out!

The oh-so-glamorous photo shoot

Ceilidh can't stay still
Dax won't move
Golly's always perfect
Roc is either miserable modelling
Or else he's yapping - Golly still perfect
If Dax does move, she sniffs

Wait! I think we've got one!

Whenever we get new products in the store, one of the first things we like to do is take them home, see how they fit and get some pictures of our dogs modeling them so that our customers will have some notion of what they look like in actual use.

This is much easier said than done. We got in new step-in harnesses, so last Sunday we brought home various sizes, colors, etc. to try on Golly, Ceilidh, Roc and Dax. Should be a piece of cake, right? All of them are obedience trained. Not so much. Golly is perfect, of course. But Roc is yapping. Which he does perpetually when outside. And with so many things moving (leaves, mostly) there's plenty to yap about! Just ask him!

Then there's Dax, who finds every inch of ground absolutely fascinating to sniff. When she's moving. When she's exhausted all the delightful smells, she finds a nice patch of sunshine and she sits in it - without moving.

Not moving is a problem for Ceilidh. Sitting still is almost visible agony for this girl. She'd much rather dance around on her hind legs. Which, we concede, is very cute. But not very useful in trying to get some good product shots.

Tired Thanksgiving Day Helpers

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! We gave thanks for everything good in our lives - especially our little ones. The dogs love to help us in the kitchen. Mostly this consists of sleeping in the dog bed in the kitchen, or in the crate under the table. And yesterday was a prime example. We decided to do a traditional Thanksgiving dinner yesterday - turkey, dressing, cranberries, brussels sprouts (particularly appropriate, we thought, since we have Brussels Griffons!) and pie.

The cooking fest began on Wednesday when I made my famous (in my own mind) chocolate pecan pie - from scratch. Many steps, very time consuming but not that hard. Then yesterday morning, while watching the Macy's parade we made the cranberry sauce first so it would have time to chill and set. Then peeling, chopping and browning 3 pounds of onions and a head of celery for the dressing. That took a while - and Roc, Dax and Golly helped all the way through. Ceilidh was sleeping in the other room, in front of the vent. (Did I mention that it was snowing yesterday morning? So much so, that I was glad we weren't travelling yesterday!)

Since we would be a small group, we decided that a boneless turkey breast would be just right. This is totally cheating, but Hope and I discovered that we can't roast a turkey successfully! Oh well, I can bake bread - I don't have to roast things.

Then right before dinner we whipped some cream to go on the pie and got out the mini-blender. Roc went crazy! His arch-nemesis! Worse than the vacuum! The little guy spun in circles, jumped against the cabinet while barking at the top of his lungs! The other dogs didn't know what was wrong and barked at Roc. At the top of their lungs. Noisy, tired dogs! They all dove into their well-deserved dinners!

One Thing Leads to Another...

As you may know, Hope and I share a house - we pretty much always have, being sisters. Golly has always slept with me, Roc and Dax have always slept with Hope. Ceilidh has also slept with Hope. But Hope's room gets mighty chilly in the winter and Ceilidh is "fur-challenged." So we decided that Ceilidh will sleep in my room. She loves this humongous round poofy blue bed that could fill a room on its own. I wouldn't want to deprive her of her favorite bed, so it came to my room as well. At first we put it on the side of my bed with a clear shot of the door. That didn't work, as I could only open half of my closet. There wasn't room on the other side of my bed - too much furniture. So - out goes one bed table! I'll make do. My clothes and Ceilidh are more important!

Back to real life

The best thing about vacation? Getting away from responsibilities and real life for a short while. The worst part? Real life is waiting to greet you the instant you get back!
I have to admit, we're luckier than most - when you love what you do for a living, you never really go to "work." It's always fun to come into the shop. We love meeting dogs and their owners, love solving problems for little dogs (and their owners) and just have a good time every day. When we first started Golly Gear, I referred to the store as my "play pen" and I still feel that way.
Of course, we missed our dogs horribly when we were away. I have a feeling that we're going to try to take them next time we go on vacation. It will restrict where we can go, but it will solve one chronic vacation problem for me. I never sleep well when I'm away from home. I'm firmly convinced it's because I'm totally reliant on French Bulldog snoring for a lullaby!
We did have a wonderful time - the weather was in the 80s and sunny every day. Our friends at DRC are warm and welcoming, including the dolphins. We encourage everyone who's as fascinated by these amazing marine mammals as we are to go meet them at the Dolphin Research Center in Grassy Key, Florida.

Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here

Went swimming with my friends Theresa and Tursi today. Aren't they pretty? You can meet them at the Dolphin Research Center: www.dolphins.org

Not exactly dog related, but I promised

As the GollyLog's loyal readers know, I volunteered to work at the World Boxing Championships for three days. What an experience! I was able to put my very rusty Spanish to good use to help out a few boxers, and I became a much better Charades player. Since English and Spanish are the only languages I speak even marginally well, the only way I could communicate with the Russian, Czech, Polish, Ghanian, etc., etc., team members was by making some sort of motion to get the point across. Even some of the English and Welsh team members were tough to understand! No problem with the Canadians, though!

The Venezuelan team manager had to shake everyone's hand when he came into the Guest Services office.

The Colombian boxers were real characters - mock fighting with the guys from the Dominican Republic over computer time in the Internet Cafe. At least I think it was mock fighting...

A very attractive volunteer made friends with one of the Georgian boxers, who wrote her a very sappy love note.

And three boxers disappeared! One called his teammates from Canada. Three boxers from Rumania were caught shoplifting at a major department store and were sent home in disgrace - banned from amateur boxing for life.

On a more uplifting note - the boxer who knocked out another during a bout wanted to make sure he was OK the following day.

So, there you have it - some of the good, the bad and the ugly.

Lessening the Halloween headache

A few years ago, trying madly to contain four dogs who all wanted to lick tiny little trick-or-treaters to pieces, I came up with a great idea. And for no cost whatsoever - I'll share it with everybody. Those of us with dogs will use it about once a year - every Halloween.
It's not exactly a dog-friendly holiday. The doorbell rings constantly for four hours. And the dogs weren't allowed to see any of our visitors, for fear they'd dash out into the night.
I solved our problem by taking out the top window of our self-storing storm door. I lock the storm so it can't open, even when four furry bodies go dashing at it.
Even the tiniest trick-or-treaters can hold up their loot-sacks for me to toss in some goodies.
The dogs get to see the kids. The kids get to see the dogs. It's a win-win situation for everybody. Including the people over at Bayer. Whose fine analgesic pain relievers we rely on tonight.

Cute!

Doesn't every French bulldog need a sleeveless sweatshirt?

You Left Me!!!

Yesterday was a long day for the pups - all of 7 1/2 hours! I had to be downtown (Chicago) pretty early for my first volunteer shift at the World Boxing Championships - more about that later - so I left the house very early. And Hope left later, but I didn't get home until about 4:30 in the afternoon. (The reason that this is exceptional is that we leave the kids almost every day but the longest is usually five or six hours. We're really lucky!) The greeting when I got home was unparalleled! You would have thought I'd been gone for days! Even Ceilidh, who usually makes a beeline for her toys, was jumping all over me! Maybe I should be gone for longer periods more often, to get a welcome home like that!

About the Boxing Championships - it's an Olympic qualifying event for the 2008 Games in Beijing for some countries, so it's a big deal. I was assigned to Guest Services in the home hotel, where all the athletes and their support staff are staying. The first thing I saw when I got to my assignment was a bunch of half-naked guys, getting ready for their weigh-in. Not bad, huh? Women were not allowed in the Weigh-in area itself, but Guest Services room is near the dining room, the Internet Cafe, and the Weigh-in room. Lucky me. I was able to help sort out some problems, using my very rusty Spanish. I have two more days of volunteering there next week, so I'll have more stories then!

Behold the Golly Force!

Whenever we get new inventory in our store we torture our own dogs by making them model. We shoot a lot of pictures, hoping to get a couple of good ones that show off the product. When we do these photo sessions we really don't look at our dogs, just the products. We think they're always cute. Sometimes they're more photogenic.

This shot really isn't all that wonderful of the coat - but Golly just looks so darn cute with the head tilt that I had to show off the darling girl. The picture was taken on Sunday, her 12th birthday. The Golly Force in action!

Small dogs, rescue, Iggy and Ellen

I had to write about this - having been there, done that. There probably aren't going to be any winners in this situation. We're hoping that Iggy, the Brussels Griffon mix at the center of the controversy, will find a good home, well away from the spotlight.
Rescue organizations have rules for reasons. Most that focus on small dogs have very specific rules about households with children. Dogs that wind up in rescue often have issues. If the dog has been hungry it will often protect its food bowl. And if small hands reach for the dog while it's eating, it's the dog who will be blamed when the hand is bitten.
We fostered a rescue Brussels Griffon several years ago. Spike hadn't really been abused, just neglected. He was underweight, not particularly socialized, had no idea what toys were for and little, if any, housebreaking. Brussels Griffon Rescue, generally speaking, will not place dogs in homes with small children - for everyone's safety. Our job, aside from taking care of Spike, was to interview the people who were interested in adopting him, checking out their circumstances, and making recommendations to our national coordinator. Several homes were rejected, one most notably, because the little girls had clear intentions of treating Spike as if he were a doll, not a dog.
As it happens, Spike's forever home was with a young couple expecting their first child when they adopted him. It was the perfect fit for Spike - their other small dog was well-treated and well-mannered. And the national coordinator was willing to assess each case individually and make the best choice for each rescue dog. I'm very happy to say that Spike and his sisters, both four- and two-legged, are thriving five years later. It was the right home for him.
If, however, things hadn't worked out, Spike's family signed a contract that I'm sure was very similar to the one Ellen DeGeneres signed for Iggy. Spike was to be returned to us if, for any reason, they were unable to keep him. When Spike became part of the Rescue organization, we committed to him and his care throughout his life. He was no longer an unwanted victim of circumstance.
Ellen signed a contract. It wasn't just a "piece of paper," any more than her contract with whatever network she works for is just a "piece of paper." Crying children on national television wailing they "want their dog back" isn't enough. If the family had gone to the rescue organization, filled out the paperwork, agreed to a "home check" and been approved to adopt Iggy, he would have been their dog.
Rules exist for reasons. In the case of most rescue organizations, they're for everyone's protection. Perhaps the good that will come from this is more people realizing that dogs of every size, shape and temperament are available in shelters and rescues. And Iggy will find the perfect forever home.

Walking all weekend

All this weekend we were at a huge trade show for the pet industry. We found some wonderful new stuff for small dogs - it'll be rolling in here over the next few weeks. Just a few quick impressions:

• Small dogs are still huge (so to speak)
• We don't care what anybody says - other than Halloween & costume parties, dogs do not need their fur dyed, or wigs
• Paper is heavy and carrying a thousand catalogs around in a tote bag results in sore shoulders
• We're very glad we cheated and brown-bagged it - $13 is too much to spend on a turkey sandwich
• Just because you're not at work doesn't mean you're not working
• Good shoes are crucial for conventions

On a mixed positive/negative note - we saw at least a dozen French Bulldogs at the convention. That's a pretty clear indication that the breed is getting very, very popular. And while we think everyone who meets one will fall in love, we all know it's not the healthiest thing for any breed to get too popular. Unscrupulous people will always jump on bandwagons to turn quick profits - not a good way to produce healthy puppies.

We also saw lots of Chihuahuas, Shih-Tzus, Poodles and Schnauzers, some Dachshunds, a Great Dane and one Doberman Pinscher. I saw the Dobe as we were going down the escalator to the first floor of the show and I thought to myself "What a good-looking dog!" Then Fran asked if I was planning to walk right by our friend Geri and her Dobe, Ryder. How awful is it that I paid no attention, whatsoever, to who was at the other end of the Dobe's leash? Not to mention that I didn't recognize Ryder!

A treasure to be prized

There is only one good chew bone in our house. This is it. Today. Ask anyone who has more than one dog - regardless of how many actual bones are in the house, there is only one good one. And the other dog has it.
As long as there's no battling over it, we try to ignore it. One dog has the "good" bone - last evening it was Ceilidh. The others sat and watched her chew it. And drooled. When she was distracted, Dax moved in and grabbed it. And then Ceilidh sat, watched, and drooled.
Dax has a habit of rolling onto her back while she chews, so she loses control of the "good" bone. It falls to the floor and Ceilidh takes it back. So Dax sits, and watches, and drools.
Roc is a clever little beast. He waited until both girls were distracted and moved in for the "good" bone. Then he trotted it over to his favorite bed to chew on it. While Ceilidh and Dax sat, watched, and drooled.
You'd think it was unique, this bone. Prized above all others. There are six more just like it in the dogs' toybox. Each will have a turn - "Bone of the Day!"

Golly was blessed

The synagogue nearest our house had a short service yesterday to bless the animals, and invited people and their animals for the service. (The Torah reading for the week was Genesis 9:10-11, Noah, his family and all the animals emerging from the Ark after the Flood.) We had planned to take all the dogs, but it was about 85 degrees, so just brought Golly. Amazingly, she's the most heat-resistant of them all and we felt that she could spread the blessing around the best (Golly being the Princess). And, true to form, the Golly Force was strong, drawing all to her presence.

I definitely felt a pang

A local organization, the Recyclery, that "rehomes" bicycles after refurbishing them was having a donation day today. So, this morning, Fran helped me brush the spiders and their webs off my old 10-speed stored in the garage and load it into my car. I planned to drive over to the donation site after work.

Just loading it into the car inspired some nostalgia - the unmistakeable "tk tk tk tk tk" of walking a 10-speed. I loved that bike. It was my birthday present when I was 15. Other kids were looking at getting cars - I knew we'd never be able to afford that. But I could get a brand, spanking new 10-speed bike. I researched for months - the best bikes, the best brakes, the highest consumer ratings. And I found my perfect bike.

Today, I gave it away. I hope it makes another short girl as happy as it made me. To her, whoever she is - I hope you enjoy your 19 inch, Grass Green, Nishiki Olympic 10 speed. It was painstakingly chosen - just for you!

The Princess and the rest of us

Golly's fine - the vet didn't say anything about the growth, so we're taking that as no news is good news. If there was anything, she would have called us. And Golly's healing nicely, too. She's a little concerned about the areas that were shaved - will her fur be as lush in those spots? Golly would not allow me to take a picture of her bald spots. She feels that only photos of the Princess looking her best can be published. Golly's princess-ness is growing, too. Golly demands that she be let in the house first. Golly demands that she get the first treat. And Golly demands that her subjects (Ceilidh, Roc and Dax) leave any bed that she wants for herself. She actually barks as if there was something interesting in the other room, and when the bed's occupant vacates the premises, Golly lies down in the bed. Like I said, a Princess.

Big night

Tonight's a big night for us - a new training hall for our obedience club and the start of the baseball playoffs.
As a lifelong Cubs fan, I can't believe I'm not even going to be home for the start of the game - but real life goes on. If Roc is ever going to get his CDX, we have to keep training. I've pretty much decided that if we hit 15 and 0 for qualifying legs, we're going to give up. (Our dismal record is now 0 for 13.) I can't keep beating my head against a wall. Roc knows all the exercises, does them beautifully in training, but can't seem to qualify to save our souls.
And the most important thing for us to remember - we play obedience to have fun. When it's not fun, it's time to move on.

Foggy, foggy night

Night before last it was so foggy we couldn't even see to the end of our block.

And Now For Something Completely Different

As my friends know, I'm an Olympics nut. I love watching the Olympics. Winter, Summer, it doesn't matter. So when Chicago, my home town, won the ability to represent the US in the 2016 Olympics bidding process, I was ecstatic. Wouldn't it be cool?!?! So, I logged onto the Chicago 2016 web site and asked to be apprised of future developments and volunteer opportunities. Well, Chicago will be hosting the World Amateur Boxing Championships next month and the powers that be called for volunteers. Not that I care a whole lot about boxing, but, what the heck? It could be fun. Hundreds of young guys from all over the world... It could be worse! There was no Agility class last night (the instructor is at the Terrier specialty show, I think), so I went to the first volunteers' information meeting downtown. A couple hundred or so people of all different walks of life were there - black, white - and everything in between, men, women, young, old! I think the Olympic delegates who attend the Boxing Championships will be impressed with Chicago volunteers!

Can't stop watching it!

This is just fascinating. Have you seen it? Blogger Play is a stream of photos uploaded to Blogger from bloggers around the world. Mesmerizing!

Now, Take Good Care of MY Baby

Here's the good news - Dax is fine. The bad news - her vet couldn't save the tooth. It was cracked all the way down, exposing the root, so what was left had to be extracted. Poor Dax - she must have been in quite a bit of pain and was truly pathetic last night.

Golly is in surgery today to remove two growths. The vet isn't worried about them but wants them gone. As is usual before surgery, Golly was not allowed anything to eat after 7 pm last night, but I had to give her her blood pressure medication at 6:00 this morning. Golly really enjoys her food - REALLY enjoys it. I am not her favorite person at the moment. It will take quite a bit for me to get back into Golly's good graces because she holds a grudge for a long time.

Hope told you about our vet's associate - it turns out that he's having some medical problems of his own, so that may explain his demeanor yesterday with Dax. Today was another story, though. The Golly Force was strong today - he melted into Golly's big brown eyes!

I'm sure that Golly will be fine, but I'm counting the hours until we can pick her up late this afternoon.

Take good care of my baby

It will be a miracle if I have any fingernails left at the end of today. Dax is at the vet's, having dental work done. I'm always petrified when my dogs have to go under anaesthesia.
It doesn't help that a) it's my fault, and b) I think Dax's vet's associate, who did her take-in this morning, is afraid of her.
It's my fault because I let Dax help me vacuum. I know I said I wouldn't, but she enjoyed it so much. When I noticed she had a bloody mouth, I thought she just bit her tongue. Instead, she has a slab fracture of a premolar. Her vet's going to try to save the tooth. I hope she can.
I think the other vet is afraid of her because he didn't so much as touch her this morning. In the past, with our other dogs, we've handed them over and he carries them. Today, he brought out a kennel lead and had me put it on her. He didn't even lead her away, he called out the guy who cleans kennels to do that.
Not a great confidence builder. Later, on my way to work, I drove by the animal hospital again. Just to make sure Dax's vet was there. She was, thank goodness. I think I may be sufficiently paranoid that if I hadn't seen her car, I would have stopped and demanded my dog back. Not too much of an over-protective mom, am I!

This is why you get a dog tag

We had an unexpected visitor in the shop this afternoon. This is Indi. I went outside for a minute and found her wandering in the alley behind the store.
She came with me very happily. She was panting like crazy and obviously lost. She walked rather slowly, especially for a big dog.
I found out why when we got inside - her front paws were both ripped up and bleeding.
We gave her some water and rinsed off her paws. While I was getting the water, Fran was able to call Indi's home because she was wearing a tag. Her mom came, with leash, within 10 minutes of our call, ready to take her to the vet.
It turns out that her family had new flooring installed today and the workmen left the backyard gate open. Indi, a perennial hunter, took off before anyone knew. I don't know how long she'd been wandering - but she was delighted to be caught.
Please get some identification on your dogs! I'd be delighted if you ordered a tag from us, but that's not the point. Get one. Put it on your dog. One phone call could get your dog back to you.

First Fun Match

I've hesitated to start matching Dax in Novice Obedience. She's been wonderful in class, but I had absolutely no confidence whatsoever that she would perform similarly in a different place.
My skepticism has good justification - I can't walk down the street with Dax at heel. She's a wild child everywhere but at home and in class, either agility or obedience.
At some point, however, you have to either fish or cut bait. So I went to a Fun Match on Saturday.
I was shocked. She was wonderful. Everyone around was absolutely charmed by my beautiful, bewildering Bully Girl. If it had been a Trial, we would have qualified. Her heeling was impeccable, her Recall a speedy thing of beauty.
Shame on me of little faith!

Bleeding all over the agility course

You guessed it! My thumb accidentally got between Ceilidh and her Latex Soccer Ball last night, before our agility class even started! Ceilidh's tooth and my knuckle intersected - not bad, but it made a nice gouge. I usually end up with a lot of little scratches but this time there was blood. Enough that I put Ceilidh in the pop-up crate I bring in the building so that I could wash my hands and try to stop the bleeding. (Of course, I didn't even think to put bandages in the training bag.) Ceilidh was looking up mournfully through the mesh while I held a paper towel in place before class, not knowing what was happening, just that it had something to do with her ball. Consequently she wasn't even interested in tugging on it during class, when I wanted her to! But, surprisingly, she had some pretty good runs! Her weaving was exceptional (for Ceilidh) and there was very little sniffing. No, I'm not willing to risk life and limb next week!

Weights and measures

A customer and I were talking in the shop today and he was reminiscing about some trouble he'd gotten into several years before. I don't know exactly what it was, but I got the definite impression he'd gone on an "enforced vacation." And then he looked at me and said "Please don't judge me by what I did when I was young and stupid."
And I told him that my yardstick for measuring people is how they treat their dogs. I hadn't really thought about my answer before it came out, but I've decided I like it.

What a weekend!

If I were the type to get teary, yesterday I would have. My obedience club honored me with the AKC Outstanding Sportsmanship Award. It was a total shock - I'm sure I gobbled like a turkey!

The occasion was our annual club picnic. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day - great weather, wonderful food, a chance to get together with our two- and four-legged friends. We always hand out the Club and Class awards at the picnic, so I got my camera ready for the awards presentations. I knew something was up when Fran took the camera away from me, then Mary Ann started reading this speech about the award and how this person deserved it for all the things she does for the club. At some point I realized she was talking about me!

I was touched and honored. Thank you to the AKC and the North Shore Dog Training Club.

I'd like to thank.....

Johann for awarding us the Blogging Star!

Dax the Huntress

Ceilidh and I had an uneventful evening at Agility class last night: we drove to class in Rush Hour traffic (honestly, when is it not?); played with our beloved Latex Soccer Ball while we waited for the Beginning class to finish; warmed up a little; TUGGED on the Latex Soccer Ball before our first run (tugging - yeah!!) which, by the way, was spectacular!; practiced our spins, touches, give paw, dance, lie down, etc., etc., etc., while we waited and waited and waited for the other dogs; Ceilidh no longer interested in Latex Soccer Ball, just want treats and so did only mediocre on the second course. And then drove home in the much faster traffic.

Ceilidh crashed on the couch and I started to unwind. We had to wait for quite a while last night - lots of weave poles and consequently lots of restarts - and Ceilidh requires a lot of attention to help her maintain at least some focus and not try to eat all the spots off the floor at class. All this as a preface to: DAX the Mighty Huntress!

All of a sudden Dax leapt off the chair and stood quivering in front of a cushion, staring at it intently. We picked it up and there was one of the creepiest, crawliest, biggest, ugliest bugs I've ever seen. EEWWWWWWW!!!! A few tissues and a hard-soled shoe later, it was gone. But Dax found it!! What a good girl.

Boston Fresh Roasted Terrier

Ceilidh loves basking, too!

Fresh baked French Bulldog

Dax loves lying in the sun.

Great place to meet guys!

Take notes, all you single young ladies wishing to meet Mr. Right! I found the perfect hunting ground!

Last Friday I went to the Cubs game. Because I love the Cubs, baseball, Wrigley Field, it was my day off, and what the heck!

As it turns out, not a great day to watch Cubs baseball.

But a great day to watch people. A significant proportion of people at Wrigley Field are on the move at all times. It may be true of other stadia, but Wrigley is the only one I know for sure.

The seat in front of me was occupied by a pretty young woman, all by herself. Three different guys struck up conversations with her. In the row in front of that, two young women found two young men.

I'd recommend to women in the market - to to a ball game! Go by yourself, or with one girlfriend. Connections were being made all over.

Except on the field. The Cubs lost miserably.

Yesterday, I cried

One of the most heartbreaking aspects of breeding dogs was brought home to me yesterday. FrogDogBlogger Carol lost one of the two puppies her beautiful bitch Sailor had about two weeks ago.
I avidly followed every antic of Sailor and her babies - couldn't wait for Carol's next post. And then the little boy, always smaller than his sister, began to fail. Just from reading her entries, we knew that Carol was putting her heart and soul into trying to save that little boy, even as she tried not to fall in love too soon.
We don't often hear about the wonderful, responsible dog breeders out there - the ones who work to better their dogs, both in health and temperament. The ones who actually lose money on every puppy, but are committed to their dogs and their hobby. The ones who get up every hour or two to tube-feed the puppy, making sure he has every chance in the world.
I don't have what it takes to be a good breeder. I know that about myself. And I admire tremendously the people who do it right and do it well. And, if and when the time comes that my life requires another French Bulldog, I'm going to call Carol and harass her until one of her babies does come to live with me.
Because even though she swore she never names a puppy until four weeks, this little guy got a name. Posthumously. I'm not quite sure I believe there is a "Rainbow Bridge," but if there is, this little guy knows who he's waiting for.

Dogs are evil. Our neighbor said so.

After work yesterday evening we needed to take some pictures of a dog in the Active Dog Harness. Ceilidh is usually our model of choice - her very short fur shows off products beautifully, she's a solid mass of muscle, and the fact that she's obsessive/compulsive/ADHD/nuts means that as long as you hold her toy, she'll look where you want her to.
So we were in the front yard, because it was shadier and better for taking pictures.
I should mention at this point that we live in a community that prides itself on diversity. Over 30 languages are spoken in the homes of the students at a local junior high school. Every year our town holds a "Festival of Cultures" that draws dozens of ethnic groups, hundreds of participants and thousands of festival-goers. The relevance to this story?
The neighbor who lives two doors east of us, who is of Western Asian descent, came over to talk to us while we were taking pictures. He's seen our dogs many times, of course, but we're usually on our way somewhere and just wave. This time, we were fairly stationary, so he came to talk.
Ceilidh, of course, was beside herself, wiggling and chirping little monkey-noises because she was so delighted that someone came to see her. Our neighbor was, justifiably, rather hesitant, but after being reassured that she wished to lick, not bite, he came over and tried to pet her. On the top of her head. Which is impossible unless she's very, very soundly asleep.
But he made the attempt, which was nice. Then he was telling us that he and his daughter really want to get a dog. Since his wife won't allow a dog in the house, he planned to keep it in the backyard, with access to the garage in Chicago's 20-degree-below-zero winter weather. It was fairly easy to convince him that this was a bad idea; dogs are pack animals, need to be with the family, etc. He got it.
And then he told us the kicker - his wife is convinced that dogs are evil because she heard a creation story that says that dogs were made from Adam's vomit and therefore rejected and evil. Huh?

Wild Weather

Ceilidh and I didn't make it to Agility class last night. You might have heard about the severe storms in the Midwest? Well, yesterday was more severe than even we hardy Chicagoans were able to take in stride! There were two lines of storms that passed through the area yesterday. The first was about 3:30 in the afternoon (while I was out running errands) and the second all evening. There were some wind gusts up to about 80 mph with the first line, and we were under a tornado warning. And I think we had a couple of inches of rain with the second line of storms. I had thought that the second line would be gone by the time I would leave for class, but the storm was going in the same direction as I would be going. I tried, though! The streets were flooded on the way to the expressway, which is only a few blocks away. But there was very little traffic when I merged onto the Edens Expressway. I soon found out why! The expressway was flooded just past the next exit. Traffic was stopped at the exit. So, with the flooded expressway and the continual lightning over the city, where I was heading, I though it might be wiser to just take the providential exit next to where I was stopped and go home. So that you get the full experience, here are some photos (from the web site of a local TV station) of the storm and its aftermath.

This is the flooded expressway (different location) taken from an overpass.

Rejecting Warhol's 15 minutes

In the continuing saga of my life going from boring to bizarre - I got a letter yesterday from the Judge Mathis television show. They apparently comb through the small claims court filings and contact the people whose cases they think would make good television. I guess it does have many telegenic elements - especially my gorgeous Dax!
I don't think I'll call Judge Mathis' producer - I filed the claim to get my day in court, not in the spotlight.

She's fallen off the veggie wagon!

I took Ceilidh and Dax to the vet for their annual visit last Friday. Ceilidh is a solid mass of muscle and pretty perfect in every way. (Okay, her teeth need some additional attention, brushing-wise. But I dare you to come and stick your finger in an unhappily-squirming, really-don't-want-this Boston Terrier mouth. With all those lovely Boston Terrier teeth in that so-strong-you-can-swing-me-around-by-my-toy Boston Terrier jaw.)

Dax, on the other hand, has gained a couple of pounds. She's a bit round at the moment and needs to lose it. French Bulldogs, I'm told, gain weight very easily, and the three months we've missed agility haven't helped.

But the poor girl doesn't seem to have her nutrition facts straight! For the last week, Dax has rejected, refused to eat, even spits out! her vegetables. This is the girl who would forego hotdogs for lettuce! Her favorite munch was carrots! We used celery as her focus/tug toy in agility class! And now she won't touch the stuff.

Last night we had her absolute favorite - Romaine Lettuce. She took a piece, crunched and spat. I don't know who told her that veggies were on the "don't" list, but I hope she stops listening to this evil propaganda. I need my Daxie to eat her veggies!

Was anyone watching?

You know how embarassed you get when you trip on nothing and furtively look around to make sure no one saw you take a tumble? Golly did that last night. She was taking a nap on the couch and decided she wanted another perspective, so she started to climb down the little stairs we have by the couch. She missed! I raced over to see if she was OK, but she scrunched down and wouldn't let me touch her. I backed off and she straightened up, shook herself and sauntered over to her new bed of choice. She laid down with her back to the room, totally embarassed. (It's OK, Golly, we've all forgotten!)

I'll find out if the law is on my side

Once upon a time, in a different lifetime, I decided I'd go to law school. I'd been out in the working world about a year and thought night school would be a good idea. The first night of class, the first thing the instructor said was, essentially: What are you people thinking? You've decided to study law in the county with the most complex legal system in the world!

My career in law school was brief - there was a fundamental difference of opinion. Law School thought it was the most important thing ever in the history of the universe and that tardiness should be punished severely. I thought doing my job to earn money to pay the rent was a higher priority. Silly me.

Anyway, that was eons ago. And now I'm facing my first actual encounter (other than jury duty) with that notorious Cook County legal system. I've decided to sue the people who poisoned Dax. (See this post)

I know they didn't do it on purpose. But I really believe they should pay my veterinary expenses for the incident. I gave them a chance - wrote them three times to offer them the opportunity. So now I'm taking more drastic measures and filing in Small Claims Court. I don't think I should have to pay for someone else's stupidity.

I guess I've still got vestiges of the wide-eyed idealist who enrolled in law school last century. Wish me luck.

Giant Schnauzer Zoomies!

I used to think that just puppies went on wild careens in huge circles. Taking Agility classes has proven me wrong. Dogs of all ages sometimes just take off on the "zoomies." The rest of us just hang onto our own dogs, while the owner is flustered and embarassed trying to get their dog back. For the last couple of weeks at class, it's been Annie the Giant Schnauzer zooming around the room. It's amazing watching this huge black dog race around and around, sometimes taking jumps, sometimes leaping over the tunnels and generally ignoring her owner. What's really incredible is that Annie had puppies just a few months ago. A litter of eleven! Wow! Did the puppies suck the gray matter out of Annie's brain? Whatever the case, she's been having a great time! It happened twice last night, with the third zoomie run cut short by our instructor who yelled in Annie's face when she tried running past her. To prevent distractions and another potential crazy run, Annie was last on the final course after the rest of the class had left the room!

Does it ever stop?

It's nice to see that I'm not alone - the majority of votes on the poll seem to support my contention that the Swiffer is, in fact, the best invention ever in the history of the earth.

Since all of our dogs are short-coated, they don't really need daily grooming. I brush everybody (but Ceilidh) twice a week with a rubber grooming brush and a slicker brush. I don't quite remember why I started using both, but they seem to work together for nice, shiny doggy coats.

Golly's coat is by far the most impressive. Lush, thick, glossy black fur, just a bit of white creeping in now that she's 11. And she is the champion shedder of our house. Every time I brush her, you could coat a puppy. I used to think it was seasonal, but I was wrong.

Roc and Dax both shed, but Golly puts them to shame. It's like they're not even trying when faced with such a prodigious producer of fluff piles.

Ceilidh, however, is exempt from this tirade. She sheds very little, if at all. The reason for that is that the poor baby has an auto-immune disease that requires her to have a medicated bath every week. If she doesn't, she's completely bald. Last time I checked, there's no such breed as a Boston Hairless.

French Bulldog Death Yodel!

Dax can do it, too!

Pitiful, just pitiful!

It's been really, really hot around here the last week or so, like most of the rest of the country. The only real impact on us - aside from skyrocketing electric bills - is that Dax (my French Bulldog) can't come to training class on Tuesday nights because the place we train doesn't have air conditioning.

When I was doing my research on Frenchies before I got her, everything I read said that the breed is very sensitive to heat and prone to heat stroke. Imagine my surprise when, her first summer, Dax would find the warmest patch of the backyard with the sun beating down and lie there, enjoying it enormously.

I thought I had the one Frenchie in the world who loved the heat. It turns out - not so much. She may like it, but she does get ill if she stays out in the heat too long. I did take her to training one hot-but-not-blast-furnace evening and she indelicately "lost" all her training treats and felt generally miserable, even after we got home.

I learned my lesson. When the temperature's above 85 F, no training for Dax. Last night I took Roc to class. I'm told that Dax spent a chunk of time howling by the back door, looking for me. I didn't know she did that! I thought the "Frenchie Death Yodel" was for other Frenchies, not mine!

Every time I think my girl is special, I'm wrong again. She's special just the way all Frenchies are.

Enjoy the Good Runs!

Ceilidh had a good night, last night at Agility class. It would have been a great night, but, well, she's Ceilidh. There were only four of us at class last night, so there wasn't much waiting between runs, and that was great! Ceilidh was a tugging fiend for the first half of class last night! She still won't tug on anything but her beloved Latex Soccer Ball at class (and I have the scars to prove it), but that's OK. We tugged to the start line, where I persuaded Ceilidh to give up the ball so she could run, and we were off! She was focused, attentive, efficient and fast!! Our instructor was even impressed! For the first half of class Ceilidh was tugging my arm out of the socket, but then she shut down... She wouldn't even look at her ball. Go figure.

More of the Lipizzans at Tempel Farms

If you want to see a slideshow of our visit to Tempel Farms' Lipizzans, click here.

Training our dogs brings people together

At training, whether it's obedience, agility, or whatever, we see pretty much the same people every week. And when we recognize the dogs, and then the people, we start to talk with each other before class or after class, or while we're waiting to do something during class. First about the dogs, then other things that we may have in common. And eventually we start to look for those same people at class. And when their lives change, so do ours. A very nice couple trains with their Lab at Agility on Thursdays with Ceilidh and me - well, they started with Ceilidh and me, now they're in the later class. Anyway, we all rejoiced with them when we learned that she became pregnant. We just learned that she lost the baby. And now we're all sad with them.

We played hookie yesterday

And went to see the Lipizzan Horses at Tempel Farms outside Chicago. It's the only place in the world, other than the Spanish Riding School in Austria that is home to Lipizzaners. Just amazing!

Blogger Reflection

Ally at Simply Nice honored us with the Blogger Reflection Award!

And, in the spirit of passing it along, we'll send it to:

FrogDogBlog

Fuzzy Logic

Good Bloggie!

I should know better

Johann the Dog

The Poodle (and Dog) Blog

Thank you!

More pics!

I've got to figure out how to work this camera! But, this is before work - the kids in typical poses.

Here's Roc, waiting for Hope.

Ceilidh wants to play. Golly and Dax, looking out the window.

There's all kinds of people in the world

I was talking to a business acquaintance the other day - someone I haven't seen since we closed the bookstore and took Golly Gear out on its own. He was amazed and astonished that we could actually have a store with just dog stuff. And small dog stuff at that.

It made me realize that we're proud members of a global sub-culture: Dog People. There are people in the world who have dogs, then there are us Dog People. We're the people who know that the movie Best In Show had too many glaring errors to be funny. We're the people who know the AKC groups, and that the beauty pageant aspect of dog showing is "conformation" with an "o" not an "i."

We know what "performance events" are and we're the ones who take the online quizzes about "what breed of dog is right for you" and invariably wind up with the ones we already own.

Most of our friends are "dog friends" - people who enjoy spending time with their dogs and the people who "get it." We can talk about disgusting things during cocktail parties and not worry about offending each other. We even have "can you top this" disgusting dog stories.

Dog People are a breed apart, if you'll forgive the expression. We remember your dog's name before yours and we don't mind when you're the same.

So, I'm Roc and Dax's "mom." And I recognize your face from the last match or trial where I saw you. But please remind me of your name, because I only remember your dog's.

The flip side

This is Ceilidh. Ceilidh has two speeds: full and off.

This is off. Enjoy it. Few have seen it in person.

Ceilidh was brilliant! and then...

As many of you know, Thursday evening is Agility class for Ceilidh and me. While I've come to the realization that I may never compete with Ceilidh, the class is still fun and it's great for her focus. There weren't many of us in class last night, which was great - more time running the courses and less time waiting. It also allowed us to run the courses more than once. We ran the first course three times, in fact. The first time Ceilidh was hesitant on the equipment, sniffing all the speckles on the floor and not really paying attention. While the other dogs were running, I pulled out Ceilidh's beloved Latex Soccer Ball and we had a tug-fest. (While a 2-inch diameter ball does not have much real estate, my fingers escaped unscathed.) I asked Ceilidh to "drop it" while I unhooked her leash, and she attacked the course! Ceilidh slammed down the teeter! She ran across the dog walk! She flew over the jumps! Ceilidh used centrifugal force in the tunnels! And she zoomed over that last broad jump! Brilliant!

And then we were back to Ceilidh-normal the rest of the class. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

How does he know?

We've been seeing all kinds of commercials lately for the big, summer blockbuster movies. I want to see Harry Potter and Ratatouille (I have a great recipe for ratatouille - wonderful stuff ). I'll definitely put Transformers and Die Hard on my Netflix queue. But Roc's decided there's one movie that surpasses all the others on the "must see" list.
Underdog, of course. I have no idea how he anticipates the commercials. All of a sudden he'll stop and run to the tv to see his hero. Even Dax, who for the last three years has paid no attention to the tv at all, looks up to see what the fuss is about when Roc sees the commercial.
Confidentially, I think he's got a crush on Polly Purebred. The room gets totally quiet when she's on the screen.
It means nothing, of course. His previous fascination was with Bruiser, the chihuahua on Legally Blonde.