There Is Always Somebody

There is always somebody that has to be difficult. Its true with people in general, its true with kids, and its true with pets.

As I posted last week, the dogs did pretty well in the house last week. We did find a few Libby holes in the blankets when we washed them, but they weren't bad ones, and considering that I wasn't expecting to be able to use the blankets again at all, I'll take a few small holes.

The cats on the other hand, were not at all thrilled about the dogs spending so much extra time in the house. Again I was proud of the dogs. They could have taken up the chase at least once every time they came in. I only had to tell Meeko “no” one time.  Still the cats all acted like they had to run everywhere they went, as if the dogs might jump out at them any time. They kept doing it, even when I put the dogs back outside.

They did have reasons to feel put out. The litter box from the bathroom was moved to the hall, and they were locked out of the warmest room in the house. Bookworm lost her spot in the sink, and went back to Katherine's room. Marshmallow has moved back to our bed. Adora has hijacked the wood pile.

Then there is Captain. As I wrote a few weeks ago, Captain has moved into my office. My office is only about 5x8 and is crammed full of stuff. The stuffing has only become worse as I try to do post Christmas cleaning.  You know how cats are about piles of stuff. If they can't lay on it, they will “fix” it so they can.

Her favorite place to sleep is my chair, but when I come in she always jumps up on the table directly on top of whatever I next to the lap top, which is where I keep the things I need to be working on. So we play this game every time, about forty times a day. I push her down. A few minutes later, she either comes back to the same exact spot and tries to nuzzle on me, jumps on the back of my chair and tries to eat my hair, or gets under the desk and starts digging around. I wasn't worried to much about the last one until I actually saw what she was doing. I had a big shopping bag full of receipts. You will note, I said “had”.

Here is a video Katherine made one day last week. Its a little long, but I don't have the right editing software on my computer to shorten it.  Just keep in mind, the recording was made by a 13-year-old, and the camera “wanders” a few times.

She mentions Captain “eating” my phone. I'll have to see if I can find that video. Here it is. Katherine had it on her Youtube channel.

Right now, we're having much nicer weather, and all the animals are enjoying some extra time outside.
We are too!

Until next time,

Connie

Surprised and Proud

According to a friend's facebook post, were were "colder than Barlow Alaska" this morning. Our overnight low temp was about 9 below with wind chills pushing 30 below. Not normal for west-central Missouri. Although the dog house is extremely sheltered, and full of straw, we still thought it best to bring the dogs in last night.

We decided the bathroom was probably the best place, so we set about dog-proofing. We removed the dirty clothes basket, the trash, the toilet paper, the shower curtain, and all reachable towels and wash rags. We took in food, water, toys and two blankets.

"You aren't expecting to get those blankets back, are you?" Ed asked me. No, I wasn't. Thats why I chose those blankets.

Finally, it was time to bring them in. You will remember the dogs get bathed in the shower, which is in the bathroom...

Finally, after some pushing, pulling, blocking, and tackling, we got them both shut in the bathroom. It was quiet. Probably twenty minutes later, Katherine says those dreaded words: "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom." Well, it was bound to happen, it was just a matter of when and whom. "Ok," I said, "let's go."
We unhooked the door and Katherine slipped through, toilet paper in hand, and I shut the door behind her. There were a few shrieks, and the sound of the dogs wrestling between themselves, but she was back out in a minute.

I let them out to go relieve themselves before I went to bed, and getting them back in was a little easier. Ed did the same when he got up for work, and I again when I got up this morning.  Of course, I was expected a very messy bathroom. Was I surprised!

The blankets were still intact, and there was no sign of any pee or poop anywhere in the bathroom! Meeko did decide to mark the bathroom trash on his way through once, but that was all it was; a mark. He can pee gallons when he wants to!

We've let them in and out a few times today, and plan on bringing them back in overnight tonight, but with a lot less stress. Still not brave enough to put everything back in there though.

Possum Hunting

I’m running a little behind. We were in Vacation Bible School all week, and then spent yesterday playing house cleaning catch-up.


Where ever you are, I hope you are getting cool temperatures and rain. We are getting neither. If you are in the midst of a drought/heat wave like we are, and you are reading this blog, I probably don’t need to tell you to look out for the four-legged members of your family. This heat is hard on them too. Three of the four cats usually come in long enough to eat this time of year, and head right back out. This last week they’ve spent more time indoors.

The dogs, however, seem to be having the opposite reaction. Here lately, they’ve barely given us enough time to put out fresh food and water. Particularly Libby, who comes in, checks out the scrap bowl to see if there is something she might be interested in eating, and goes right back out. Meeko, at least, wants to say hello to us too. Of course, if it’s in the scrap bowl, he’ll eat it. We’re not sure what’s going on out there that is so interesting in this heat, but we aren’t going to force them to stay in. They have plenty of shade and fresh water. Libby has dug herself a nice crater to lie in.

A few times a year, some unfortunate, or maybe just intellectually challenged, critter finds itself on the wrong side of the fence. We’ve found at least three raccoons and two ‘possums “treed”. When that happens, there is no doubt as to their interest in being outside. They let us know right away.

Meeko, who is two years old now, has developed a deep, beautiful, big dog voice. When he gets excited however, he still reverts to a puppy yip that travels for miles and has the same effect as nails on chalkboard. A few days last week, he was very interested in something under the dog house, and was yipping quite a bit. Ed went out to look from the outside of the fence, but didn’t see anything. Since Libby wasn’t interested in whatever it was, we really didn’t think much of it.

We’ve decided, after much research and thought, that the part of Libby that is not Lab is probably Husky, or something close to that. Although, she too, has a big dog bark, when she gets excited, the sounds coming from her sound like nothing any dog should make… ever. The first time I heard it, I thought she was dying. Have you ever seen the Husky saying “I love you” on YouTube? It’s kind of like that…at least parts of it is. Because it’s not an all the time thing for her, when she starts making that noise, we investigate. Normally, its buzzards flying too close for her comfort (she REALLY has a thing about birds), or someone riding an ATV (she hates them) or something like that. A few days after Meeko started yipping at the dog house, Libby started making that noise. I went out where I could see the back of the dog house. They were both trying to dig their way in. I went to get Ed.

We made the dogs come inside and then we went out. You have to understand, the navigable space behind the dog house is about five square feet…maybe. Not really enough room to lie down in, which is what we needed to do to see. Neither one of us was crazy about sticking our face in there either. We were both thinking it might be a snake. Anyway, Ed finally managed to get himself where he could see (this is how we found out the electric fence is off…as long as the dogs don’t know), and I got myself where I could hold the flashlight where it would do some good.

It was a ‘possum. Ok so how are we going to get him out? Ed got a stick and tried to shove him out (remember the maneuverability issue?) After some grunting, groaning, and mild cursing, Ed got the stick in behind the critter, which ran out the other side. It was a baby, probably about the same size as a four month old kitten. If a ‘possum can be cute, this one was!

The little thing scampered up the hill, up a tree, and across the fence to freedom, as Ed and I tried to extricate ourselves from behind the dog house. He had better luck than we did, but we finally managed to get up and out too.

I think the dogs were a little annoyed. About ten minutes after we let them back out, we checked on them. They were both sitting there looking at us, like “What did you do with it? Ed, did you eat our ‘possum?”

At least it’s quiet…for now.

Trial and Error

First, my apologies for taking so long to post. Things have been nuts here between work, weather, sickness, and general craziness. Now that I’m starting to get a handle on things again, I hope to be posting to both of my blogs more regularly.

There have been a few interesting developments on the Libby front. First of all, everything we have read concerning chewing says we have to catch her in the act. If only it were that simple. Libby seems to have built in radar that tells her when it is not a good time to be chewing because she might get caught. Normally, this means most damage is done during the night when we are asleep.

The second thing we have learned is that she is sneaky. We might have already guessed that, but we now have proof. The other night, Ed caught her trying to get something off the kitchen table. He chastised her and she left the table. He turned to go back down the hall to the office. I, being in the living room, with a direct view of both Libby and the table, saw her watch him go down the hall, and as soon as he was out of sight, turn right back around to the table. This time, I yelled at her, and told Ed what she had done.

Over the last few weeks we have been trying to catch her chewing. One suggestion we read was to leave anything we might find, giving her an opportunity to come back to it. Then chastise her. That worked once. Ed thinks somebody may have tried that before, and that’s why she only chew little holes in things and then goes on to something else. I wonder if she hadn’t got the “don’t chew” just the “don’t chew on that”. Chewing on something else might be ok.

We have caught her a few times at night recently, because Ed has been ill and been up and down a lot. One night in particular, he came in the room and she wanted to play. She started jumping at him, with him telling her no. Suddenly, she disappeared around the side of the bed and came back with one of his t-shirts, and tossed it at him. It took him a second to recover, but then they had a discussion about the t-shirt. He has caught her twice now with things in her mouth, taken them from her, and scolded her. With every scolding, she hides under the bed. A few times we have found things on the floor unchewed. We were beginning to be hopeful. Until last night.

I heard her milling around the bedroom. I opened my eyes and saw her standing on her hind legs, inspecting the top of the dresser. I scolded her, and she stopped. A few hours later, we realized she must have waited until she knew I was asleep (the sneaky thing again), and gone back. She chewed the collar off Ed’s work shirt, and ate about half of his plastic name tag. Drastic times call for drastic measures. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

The Bed Isn’t Safe Either

Every time I think I might run out of Libby topics she does something else.
I was awakened by Ed turning on the light at 3 a.m.. Sadly, my very first thought was “she couldn’t have got any clothes, I took all the dirty laundry to the garage last night.” What she had done was get hold of the end of the comforter, and systematically pulled a large amount of stuffing from it. The stuffing, which was now covering the bedroom floor, was what Ed had stepped on,in the dark.

When Kyle came upstairs about three hours later, we knew it, because we could hear Libby doing what Ed calls the “Libby Dance”. Basically, it’s prancing, and jumping. She does it anytime anyone comes in, but she really loves Kyle and goes especially nuts for him, even if he’s just been downstairs. I asked him if he would put her out. He said he would, but what he didn’t tell me is that she got away from him and he didn’t have time to try to catch her, or he would be late for school. When I opened the front door in order for Katherine to catch the bus two hours later, there was Libby running around the front yard. Thankfully, she was ready to come in and ran right in the house as soon as she saw the door was open.

Later in the day, as we were getting ready to run errands, I noticed Ed had left is slippers on the floor in front of the bed. I reminded him Libby was in the house and actually sleeping under the bed. He put the slippers in the closet. Then as he was making the bed, I asked him if he really thought that would last. He said it was an experiment. When we returned home, we both went to check on the “experiment”. Yep, the neatly made bed had been unmade. The covers were all pulled back from the pillows. It gives a whole new meaning to “who’s been sleeping in my bed?” At least she didn’t ball them all up in the middle of the bed. She’s done that before too.

She's no more purebred Lab than I am

Thats just what I thought when I first saw her a little over two years ago. My sister had called and told me her boyfriend's friend had a four month old pure bred lab female that really needed a new home. We had lost our Lab, Sarge, a few months before, so I wanted to talk it over with the kids first. Although they had both been devastated at the loss of Sarge, Sixteen year old Kyle and 7 year old Katherine both
immediately jumped at the idea of a new puppy. Big hearts, my kids.
When my sister's boyfriend brought her over the next day, and this black tangle of legs tail and tongue that they called Libby Lou, accosted me on my front porch, I thought to myself what I have already said. She's no more lab than I am. Yes, she's black and she's going to be good sized, but no way she's lab with that head. To be honest, the shape of her head and her ears suggested Jack Russell Terrier to me, but I couldn't quite grasp how that could happen. I still don't, but I'm convinced that some how it did. Libby is no prue bred Lab. The veternarian agrees, but can't quite put his finger on what she might be either. I describe her as a Jack Russell in a Lab body. Think all that energy in a big dog. Yeah, my life has never been the same.