I escaped da crate and Mama is out looking for me. She thinks I got over da fence but I doubled back an here I am! HaHa! I am Sunny, the head dog aroun here. I've been watching mama and figured out how dis thing works. Ony problem is my feets is too big to push the buttons. I got Mouse here with me, her feets is liddle and she can push the buttons. Dis is a neat place to live, nice yard and fence dat is jumpable. Uhoh here comes mama, busted! She sees Mouse and me at da computer. She looks at us and tells us "off". Okay, we godda go talk to you later.
Life in the Blue Ridge mountains of GA. As seen through the eyes of a pack of Dalmatians and their person.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
My kingdom for a bed...
Since we've been up here, we have been furnitureless. All our furniture is still in storage down in Atlanta. We are saving up to get it moved here. Of course those of us lucky enough to have crates have nice soft bedding in them. Those of us that are crateless, (lets see, six dogs, six crates, hmmmm that must be me), don't have a nice soft bed to sleep in. What we do have is a "pallet" on the floor. Now the sound of "pallet" on the floor has a kind of rustic sound to it. Believe me, rustic doesn't half cover it. What a pallet, in my case is, is all the extra dog bedding covered by the one quilt I own to give a semblence of softness to the wood floor. Remember the wood floor? The pallet is an excuse to give my body the impression that the floor really isn't hard. Of course, my body having been around the track more than a few times isn't easy to fool. It knows the floor is hard, and it is. The first night I awoke after about an hour. I was exhausted from trying to get down on the floor. Getting down is the opposite torture of getting up and we all know what a labor that can be. The Doos were watching me with amusement thinking of all the times they wanted to sleep on the bed and they were relegated to their crates. "Well look who's on the floor now". Okay, as I said before, I woke up about an hour after I went to sleep. Going to sleep was accompanied by major tosses and turning, a lot of oooohs and ahhhhs and grumbles from the Doos since i was evidently keeping them awake with my moaning. Well excuse me, I didn't see any offers to share a crate!
That initial attempt to sleep on the pallet should have been a clue as to what was to follow. Lotto, sweet little girl that she is decided to join me on the pallet. Lotto has always slept on the bed. The "pallet" better known as the torture chamber is not as large as a twin bed. It's thinner and shorter. Lotto has always claimed her side of the bed. One half of a king size bed is a lot of space for a small chubby dalmatian, but 1/2 of a pallet isn't much and every square inch is valuable real estate. So now I am laying on the pallet on my side with my knees up. There was no comfort in the original space but this added restriction has made sleeping impossible. At some point Lotto decided that this arrangement is uncomfortable. I stole her crate blankets the moment she abandoned her crate to add to the comfort level of the pallet so she couldn't go back to her crate What she did is to claim the pillow. Now this was not happening. I'm sorry, I love Lotto very much and would give my life for her, but not my pillow. I pulled the pillow out from under her and with an old dog attitude sigh she decided to stay there. Okay I can live with this and I move my pillow below Lotto. Now I have the full width of the pallet but the short pallet has now become shorter, about 4'5" long. I finally fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. One thing should be noted here. I've already explained that Lotto is a nocturnal farter. However, it seems that the mountain air or more likely not being in absolute comfort has put a cork in her farting. More likely though is that I was to tired to notice.
The next big surprise in the pallet adventure was waking up. Waking up itself has always been a challenge for me. First I have to locate where I am and secondly why I woke up to begin with. Not being a morning person, it's rarely early. The first thing I noticed was that I was on the floor. Before I could ponder how I got there I became aware of excruciating pain in most of my body. This was followed quickly by the realization that Lotto was sprawling across the pallet and that included my pillow too. Lastly, Riggins was having one of his barking sessions. He's not really saying anything just letting the world in general know that he is alive and noisy. Of course once he starts and the Doos realize that I am conscience they all join into the chorus. Normally, I would get myself together and shuffle off to let said Doos outside. However, today was different. After becoming aware of the pain, I realized that I needed to get on my feet. Easier said than done. Usually this is accomplished by crawling to a piece of furniture and lifting oneself using said piece of furniture. Good plan except that with the pain, crawling was impossible and there were no big pieces of furniture. I decided to roll off the pallet. One benefit of the pallet is that if you fall off, you only have about 1" to 2" to fall. Having accomplished the roll accompanied by the minimal amount of groaning. I started scooting across the floor to get to a crate. (these are considered furniture suitable for using to get oneself upright. Of course, the Doos were just thrilled to see Mama coming towards them. This must be a new game where we will all crawl on the floor and jump up on crates. I looked for Lotto and saw that she had resumed her position across the pallet and pillow.
The rest of the day was very uneventful in comparison. That is until it was time to go to bed and the sequence repeated itself. Actually, this sequence repeated itself for 3 days and nights After three nights, I swore to myself I would find some sort of bed to sleep in. Later that day, I was cruising Walmart. Yes, there is a Walmart in town about 12 miles from the house, for the other necessities of life beyond beer and gas. I went through the camping section and found this miracle of technology, an air bed!!!! It was the kind that takes sheets and all. One step above an air mattress that you use to float upon in water or top your cot.. I already had the electric pump from a previous air mattress that did not go with dignity.
I rushed home with my prayers answered. As I pulled the mattress from it's box and inflated it I was smiling. I was imagining the comfort I would sleep in. Of course I laid down on it and it was heavenly. I put the excess dog bedding in a pile on a crate and made the "bed" up. I went back to working on the internet and the usual duties of letting dogs in and out of the house and crates. At 11pm I was done working and put everyone in crates for the night. I took a shower as I anticipated the wonderful sleep I would have. As I dropped to the floor and rolled onto the mattress I went to sleep with a smile, knowing that I'd wake up in less pain and able to get up without crawling. I'd brought Sunny's crate into the bedroom and put it next to the mattress. Perfect height for getting oneself off the floor!
That initial attempt to sleep on the pallet should have been a clue as to what was to follow. Lotto, sweet little girl that she is decided to join me on the pallet. Lotto has always slept on the bed. The "pallet" better known as the torture chamber is not as large as a twin bed. It's thinner and shorter. Lotto has always claimed her side of the bed. One half of a king size bed is a lot of space for a small chubby dalmatian, but 1/2 of a pallet isn't much and every square inch is valuable real estate. So now I am laying on the pallet on my side with my knees up. There was no comfort in the original space but this added restriction has made sleeping impossible. At some point Lotto decided that this arrangement is uncomfortable. I stole her crate blankets the moment she abandoned her crate to add to the comfort level of the pallet so she couldn't go back to her crate What she did is to claim the pillow. Now this was not happening. I'm sorry, I love Lotto very much and would give my life for her, but not my pillow. I pulled the pillow out from under her and with an old dog attitude sigh she decided to stay there. Okay I can live with this and I move my pillow below Lotto. Now I have the full width of the pallet but the short pallet has now become shorter, about 4'5" long. I finally fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. One thing should be noted here. I've already explained that Lotto is a nocturnal farter. However, it seems that the mountain air or more likely not being in absolute comfort has put a cork in her farting. More likely though is that I was to tired to notice.
The next big surprise in the pallet adventure was waking up. Waking up itself has always been a challenge for me. First I have to locate where I am and secondly why I woke up to begin with. Not being a morning person, it's rarely early. The first thing I noticed was that I was on the floor. Before I could ponder how I got there I became aware of excruciating pain in most of my body. This was followed quickly by the realization that Lotto was sprawling across the pallet and that included my pillow too. Lastly, Riggins was having one of his barking sessions. He's not really saying anything just letting the world in general know that he is alive and noisy. Of course once he starts and the Doos realize that I am conscience they all join into the chorus. Normally, I would get myself together and shuffle off to let said Doos outside. However, today was different. After becoming aware of the pain, I realized that I needed to get on my feet. Easier said than done. Usually this is accomplished by crawling to a piece of furniture and lifting oneself using said piece of furniture. Good plan except that with the pain, crawling was impossible and there were no big pieces of furniture. I decided to roll off the pallet. One benefit of the pallet is that if you fall off, you only have about 1" to 2" to fall. Having accomplished the roll accompanied by the minimal amount of groaning. I started scooting across the floor to get to a crate. (these are considered furniture suitable for using to get oneself upright. Of course, the Doos were just thrilled to see Mama coming towards them. This must be a new game where we will all crawl on the floor and jump up on crates. I looked for Lotto and saw that she had resumed her position across the pallet and pillow.
The rest of the day was very uneventful in comparison. That is until it was time to go to bed and the sequence repeated itself. Actually, this sequence repeated itself for 3 days and nights After three nights, I swore to myself I would find some sort of bed to sleep in. Later that day, I was cruising Walmart. Yes, there is a Walmart in town about 12 miles from the house, for the other necessities of life beyond beer and gas. I went through the camping section and found this miracle of technology, an air bed!!!! It was the kind that takes sheets and all. One step above an air mattress that you use to float upon in water or top your cot.. I already had the electric pump from a previous air mattress that did not go with dignity.
I rushed home with my prayers answered. As I pulled the mattress from it's box and inflated it I was smiling. I was imagining the comfort I would sleep in. Of course I laid down on it and it was heavenly. I put the excess dog bedding in a pile on a crate and made the "bed" up. I went back to working on the internet and the usual duties of letting dogs in and out of the house and crates. At 11pm I was done working and put everyone in crates for the night. I took a shower as I anticipated the wonderful sleep I would have. As I dropped to the floor and rolled onto the mattress I went to sleep with a smile, knowing that I'd wake up in less pain and able to get up without crawling. I'd brought Sunny's crate into the bedroom and put it next to the mattress. Perfect height for getting oneself off the floor!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Yoga, Tai Chi and tryin to get up from the floor.....
One of the reasons that I wanted to live in an area like this is because i wanted to develop a healthier life style. I wanted to eat fresh fruits and vegetables. That was until I checked out the price of fresh fruit and vegetables. Dear Lord! apples are a dollar each. Anyway, when you live on the side of a mountain, there are no taco bells around the corner. As a matter of fact, the only thing around is some critter trying to cross the road. By the way, you are in his neighborhood. There is no convenience stores or fast food up here. There is a little store up here about 5 miles from the house and you can get gas and beer, the necessities of life!
Anyway, I harkened back to my youth when I was lithe and spry and under thirty. You cannot be lithe and spry if you are over thirty and you are lucky if you remember how to spell lithe and spry after 60 which I am. I was a yoga fanatic I would practice it daily for 2 hours and then came a career and marriage and kids and grad school and over 40 and by that time I was doing 15 minutes here and there (more there than here). By the time I had reached 50, I quit.
The setting here is so peaceful with the sound of the creek being the loudest sound. Of course that is if you discount Riggins who is the loudest most persistant high barking Dalmatian on the planet. He loves it up here, he can stand outside and bark his fool head off for no reason at all. He kind of gets that from his mother Lotto who like to bark for no reason at all, but being old she forgets what she was barking at or that she was barking and she quits. Not so Riggies, barking is the passion of his life and he is really enjoying it. That actually was another reason to want to get back to solitude where my dogs could be the strange selves that they are.
Anyway, I harkened back to my youth when I was lithe and spry and under thirty. You cannot be lithe and spry if you are over thirty and you are lucky if you remember how to spell lithe and spry after 60 which I am. I was a yoga fanatic I would practice it daily for 2 hours and then came a career and marriage and kids and grad school and over 40 and by that time I was doing 15 minutes here and there (more there than here). By the time I had reached 50, I quit.
Back to the peace and quiet. The house has both a deck and a screened front porch and beautiful wood floors. Now you know my history with yoga and for a short time after 50 I dabbled in Tai Chi. I took that up because 1st, you do the movements standing up, ergo no crawling around on the floor trying to get up. Second, The movements are done slowly and gracefully which is an added attraction if you are older and chubby. Yoga can require a mat or a wood floor is much better than carpet because you don't aquire "wood" burns if you do something wrong and fall over. Yoga is also the one form of excercise where the philosphy is never do something until it hurts. This is great advice for seniors and I've actually figured it out. Yeah, I've got a lot of free time. Anyway, you do the excercises until you "feel the burn" when you are younger because you recuperate a lot faster. After 60, if you "feel the burn", you've done something wrong and will be limping and griping and complaining for a week.
Before we go any further and I know you are waiting patiently for the yoga and tai chi story to begin, I feel I need to clarify a point. In any group you will have the over achievers and the underachievers and the rest. As a senior I am addressing most of us regular people. We've all seen the stories about the 70, 80 and 90 year olds who climb mountains, do triathalons and other marvelous feats. Well that's great, It provides hope for those of us who don't do that stuff and when we think about that we imagine what we could hurt or break. Then there are those of us who do absolutely nothing, weigh over 600 lbs and spend our day eating greasy food and ride around in a scooter, complaining that life isn't fair. Again, bless you, you make us feel good about ourselves and our limited athletic abilities. But, most of us fall in a wide range between those two. What scares the hell out of us is when we look in a mirror and see our parents or grandparents looking back at us. In our minds however we are still those 20 year olds. The other thing that concerns us is we are worried about breaking something. In my case I am consumed with the fear of breaking something. Mainly because I have broke things and found out that at my age it takes a looong, looooooooooooong time to heal and it doesn't heal right. So if you fit into one of the two specialty classes, you may not see life as the rest of us seniors do and don't hate us because we're normal. Sit back, now about the peaceful setting, the experience with yoga and tai chi and don't forget about the greater joy life and laugh at it as we do.
Okay, we are finally getting to the topic of this post. I got out of bed (and that in itself is a fete) a few days ago and felt particularly motivated. After getting all the Doos out and playing with them and then getting Riggins all set up for his daily barkfest. I decided to get ready by sitting on the floor and trying some meditation. This used to work at twenty but I didn't have six Dals who think the only reason you would be on the floor would be to play with them. Of course!! Picture this, me in a pair of sweats sitting on the floor, the cross legged thing is a thing of the past. My eyes are closed and I am focusing on the "third eye" which is that area between your two eyebrows. For those of you with a unibrow, don't let this stop you it is there. I haven't reached that state of concentration yet. It's only been about 2 seconds when I am mugged by 4 spotted creatures. One is licking my "third eye", one has decided to settle in my lap. One is sniffing the butt of the other one who is exploring my ear and sniffing in it. Of the other 2, one is barking (guess who?) and the last one has stolen all the rawhide chews from the other crates and is guarding them in their crate. Immediately, I knew that this wasn't going to work. I knew if I ever was going to meditate it would have to be sans dogs. Yeah right! If I put them in their crates they will bark loudly and in unison to be let out. If I put them outside, they will jump and bark loudly at the door to be let in. Riggins will joyfully join in because it involves BARKING. If I go out and leave them in, well you get the picture. So scratch the meditation and on to excercises. I decided to start with Tai Chi because I remember this one set of moves that is part of the "Sun salutation" and very flowing and nice. So after crawling to a vacant chair I got off the floor. I remember my grandma trying to get up off the floor and muttering "Oh God" in Italian of course. At the time I thought it was a little dramatic now I know what she meant. Sorry grandma! So now I am up and in position in bare feet on wood floors. Do you sense that something is going to go wrong here? I start the flowing move and am in to a third go 'round and one of the dogs got the idea that I was dancing and decided to join in. Now Siren is one heck of a dancer (for a refresher go to the 1st post) but when you are not expecting to be joined by an enthusiastic 40 lb dancing machine it comes as a real suprise. As I'm doing a kind of slide/turn and thinking about how cool this looks, Miss Toe-toes jumps up on me from the back. I think she had a conga line in mind. I lose my balance and had one of those moments when you think, "this is gonna hurt...." and down I go in the least cool manner I could. When I land on the floor I take inventory and find nothing broken, we already talked about this. Meanwhile Siren has decided, "okay we can dance on the floor". Now some of this is my fault (not the falling, the dancing). Siren and I have been known to cut loose in the privacy of the living room and dance, both standing up and on the floor. Hey, you dance too, I know it. Anyway, I decide that since I down there I might as well do some floor excercises. At that point I should have quit, but ohhhhhhh nooooo, never say never. So, I get back in that sitting position and here they come again, licking the third eye, butt sniffing (only this time it was mine) and ear sniffing. I really was proud of myself that I could continue with all that going on. I moved onto a routine which requires that you move your arms out from your side outward and then up. Riggins has decided to stand there and is cheering me on (his version which is barking, but to a really catchy tempo). The rawhide bone thief was still guarding the stash but 2 others decided I had food in my hand and was tossing it for them and so they were running across my lap. If you have never experienced a dog running across you legs and launching itself off your lap, consider yourself lucky, it is quite painful to say the least. To top off the act of these two acrobats they were running around sniffing looking for the phantom goodie and when they didn't find it decided I was hiding it by sitting on it. At that point, they felt the need to start "digging" under me, both front and back. Oh yeah they were a team. At the point where I obtained a large bruise on the inner thigh from being clawed at. I gave up. Not peacefully of course. The surrender included a couple of choice words which I won't repeat. The dogs in question backed up and gave me that "jeez, what a grouch, you're no fun" look. Now that I had decided to give in, I realized that this was going to include raising myself off the floor. Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead was nothing compared to me trying to get up off the floor. Again, sorry grandma. I had dogs around me trying to do various things, none of which was helping. I tried kneeling and that didn't work then I was on one knee trying to use the other for leverage, that didn't work. I tried that on both sides, didn't work so I resorted to the ever faithful, crawling to a chair or other sturdy object and lifting my self that way. When I did get up, I plunked myself into the chair and all these spotted wonders came over and some even laid down. They let me know that they had forgiven me for spoiling their fun. So generous of them. After much consideration I have decided not to give up on excercise but to incorporate the Spots into them, maybe weightlifting?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Meeting strange animals.....
Our first full day here was a joy to behold and a chance for Sunny to explore. I was unloading the car and didn't latch the gate (like that would stop him) when Sunny, Lotto and Riggins were let outside. I noticed the gate unlatched when I see this black and white butt heading down the lane. It was a real "Oh Crap" moment. Meanwhile, the other dogs were standing inside the fence watching what I was going to do. They soon lost interest when I did close the gate. Anyway, back to Sunny. I should probably tell you that the house has a creek running along side of it, and a neighbor on the other side of it. Sunny took the first opportunity to go investigate the creek. Sunny has always had a penchant for water and loves any source deep enough for him to snorkle in and splash around. Now mind you this is a mountain stream close to the source and to say it's cold is an understatement. Didn't bother him. Oh, did I tell you that the neighbor has 3 little Yorkies, all intact males who are convinced they are Rottweilers. I did say that Sunny likes all dogs, but having had a incident with a Chihuahua with a bad attitude a couple of years ago. He doesn't trust small yappie dogs. Well, while he was acting out in the creek these 3 Yorkies, who always have the cutest little sweaters on, started yapping at him from the security of their raised porch. I have no idea of what they were saying but it certainly piqued Sunny's interest and he decided to go "visit" the tiny terrors. He loped up the bank and proceeded towards the house. I think I also forgot to tell you that the neighbor has a large sow (for city folk that is a girl pig). She is quite impressive in size and easily twice as big as he is. Now Sunny was born in the midwest and lived there for the first few years of his life. He is no stranger to farms. He knows about cows, horses, sheep and free range chickens (that's another story but you can use your imagination to figure out how badly that turned out), but this was a new animal to him. Sunny is an AKC champion and has been around dog shows a lot and has seen his share of strange dogs, but this one beat them all. The pig's pen is under the porch where the Yorkie's are. The Yorkies are barking and I can only assume that it wasn't "hi, how are ya, come up and play". Sunny stood transfixed looking at this huge smelly thing that was ignoring him. You could see by the look on his face that he was thinking, "what the hell is that?". After about 30 seconds he decided he didn't care and wanted to play. He ran up to the pen, Yorkies still barking, and got into the play posture and barked at the pig. Now you could see that this pig wasn't impressed, in no mood for playing with this annoying dog, and the Yorkies had a huge respect for her. My thoughts are there used to be more than three Yorkies and they fell into the pen after leaning to far out on the deck and were eaten by this huge animal. I think the Yorkies were hoping that the pig would eat Sunny. But again I digress (I told you that I did that alot) and it's just my vivid imagine that the pig is a dog eater. Anyway, Sunny spent the next ten minutes trying to get this pig's attention. Of course, the pig ignored him. Sunny eventually got tired of trying to play with the pig, or else he was tired of being yapped at by the Yorkies. In either case, he headed back to the creek got himself totally wet and then decided to come on home. You know the saying that, "there is nothing more affectionate than a wet dog", it's true. Anyway, that's how I met my neighbors who are really nice.
Later that same day, Sunny jumped the fence. Now Sunny is a world class fence jumper. He doesn't need any kind of a running start, he merely stands about a foot from the fence and lifts himself up and sails over. To date there hasn't been a fence that has defeated Sunny, including a 6 foot chain link. The only thing that does stop him is an electric wire. He won't mess with a wire. He learned in early puppyhood that wires "bite". Of course that doesn't mean that he doesn't try to get out some other way. He never goes too far and will come home and scratch at the door or gate as if to say, I'm home, let me in.
Anyway as I started to say, Sunny jumped the fence. I was in no mood to go through the pig incident again. As I shuffled up the lane behind him calling his name and him ignoring me, I decided to pull out the big guns. There is one technique that never fail to work unless your dog is deaf or hates you. The technique is to fall to the ground and howl in pain. The dog will return to you if only out of curiosity. Well the technique worked. Sunny came trotting up to me to see what I was screaming about I grabbed him by his neck (he wasn't wearing a collar) and he knew he had been had. I'm telling you that this doesn't fail. Of course be careful how you do throw yourself to the ground. That part isn't fool proof. The one thing I didn't count on was that the neighbors would also respond to the cries of pain. This isn't NYC where you can lay shot and bleeding and people will step over you or on you as the situation requires. This is the mountains of Georgia where people are nice and friendly and look out for their neighbors because they don't have many. So of course as I'm struggling to get on my feet and maintain a hold on "Houdini" I see the neighbor come running out the door. Of course, I am waving to him to tell him I'm all right. I hollered up at him that I was just trying to get Sunny. Now I know from having met him and talked to him that this wasn't in his realm of experiences. He hollered back "ya'llrite,?" Up here that is pronounced as one word. I answered him that I was fine. The best thing about this is that if I were to fall down screaming Sunny would still bite at the bit and come back. Now I know that I am not the only dog person that knows this trick. My advice would be the following. If you come upon a situation where there is a person hollering in pain on the ground and there is a dog sashaying up the street. Give it a minute. If the dog comes back and the owner is doing an AHA and has the dog under control and gets up off the ground, the situation is solved. If the dog doesn't return and the person gets up off the ground and heads for their car to play the ultimate card which is to fool the dog by thinking it is going for ride, the situation is solved. But, if the dog continues on it's way and the person is still on the ground making distressing noises you might want to go investigate. Kind of shuffle on over, lean down and say "ya'll rite?"
Our first full day here was a joy to behold and a chance for Sunny to explore. I was unloading the car and didn't latch the gate (like that would stop him) when Sunny, Lotto and Riggins were let outside. I noticed the gate unlatched when I see this black and white butt heading down the lane. It was a real "Oh Crap" moment. Meanwhile, the other dogs were standing inside the fence watching what I was going to do. They soon lost interest when I did close the gate. Anyway, back to Sunny. I should probably tell you that the house has a creek running along side of it, and a neighbor on the other side of it. Sunny took the first opportunity to go investigate the creek. Sunny has always had a penchant for water and loves any source deep enough for him to snorkle in and splash around. Now mind you this is a mountain stream close to the source and to say it's cold is an understatement. Didn't bother him. Oh, did I tell you that the neighbor has 3 little Yorkies, all intact males who are convinced they are Rottweilers. I did say that Sunny likes all dogs, but having had a incident with a Chihuahua with a bad attitude a couple of years ago. He doesn't trust small yappie dogs. Well, while he was acting out in the creek these 3 Yorkies, who always have the cutest little sweaters on, started yapping at him from the security of their raised porch. I have no idea of what they were saying but it certainly piqued Sunny's interest and he decided to go "visit" the tiny terrors. He loped up the bank and proceeded towards the house. I think I also forgot to tell you that the neighbor has a large sow (for city folk that is a girl pig). She is quite impressive in size and easily twice as big as he is. Now Sunny was born in the midwest and lived there for the first few years of his life. He is no stranger to farms. He knows about cows, horses, sheep and free range chickens (that's another story but you can use your imagination to figure out how badly that turned out), but this was a new animal to him. Sunny is an AKC champion and has been around dog shows a lot and has seen his share of strange dogs, but this one beat them all. The pig's pen is under the porch where the Yorkie's are. The Yorkies are barking and I can only assume that it wasn't "hi, how are ya, come up and play". Sunny stood transfixed looking at this huge smelly thing that was ignoring him. You could see by the look on his face that he was thinking, "what the hell is that?". After about 30 seconds he decided he didn't care and wanted to play. He ran up to the pen, Yorkies still barking, and got into the play posture and barked at the pig. Now you could see that this pig wasn't impressed, in no mood for playing with this annoying dog, and the Yorkies had a huge respect for her. My thoughts are there used to be more than three Yorkies and they fell into the pen after leaning to far out on the deck and were eaten by this huge animal. I think the Yorkies were hoping that the pig would eat Sunny. But again I digress (I told you that I did that alot) and it's just my vivid imagine that the pig is a dog eater. Anyway, Sunny spent the next ten minutes trying to get this pig's attention. Of course, the pig ignored him. Sunny eventually got tired of trying to play with the pig, or else he was tired of being yapped at by the Yorkies. In either case, he headed back to the creek got himself totally wet and then decided to come on home. You know the saying that, "there is nothing more affectionate than a wet dog", it's true. Anyway, that's how I met my neighbors who are really nice.
Later that same day, Sunny jumped the fence. Now Sunny is a world class fence jumper. He doesn't need any kind of a running start, he merely stands about a foot from the fence and lifts himself up and sails over. To date there hasn't been a fence that has defeated Sunny, including a 6 foot chain link. The only thing that does stop him is an electric wire. He won't mess with a wire. He learned in early puppyhood that wires "bite". Of course that doesn't mean that he doesn't try to get out some other way. He never goes too far and will come home and scratch at the door or gate as if to say, I'm home, let me in.
Anyway as I started to say, Sunny jumped the fence. I was in no mood to go through the pig incident again. As I shuffled up the lane behind him calling his name and him ignoring me, I decided to pull out the big guns. There is one technique that never fail to work unless your dog is deaf or hates you. The technique is to fall to the ground and howl in pain. The dog will return to you if only out of curiosity. Well the technique worked. Sunny came trotting up to me to see what I was screaming about I grabbed him by his neck (he wasn't wearing a collar) and he knew he had been had. I'm telling you that this doesn't fail. Of course be careful how you do throw yourself to the ground. That part isn't fool proof. The one thing I didn't count on was that the neighbors would also respond to the cries of pain. This isn't NYC where you can lay shot and bleeding and people will step over you or on you as the situation requires. This is the mountains of Georgia where people are nice and friendly and look out for their neighbors because they don't have many. So of course as I'm struggling to get on my feet and maintain a hold on "Houdini" I see the neighbor come running out the door. Of course, I am waving to him to tell him I'm all right. I hollered up at him that I was just trying to get Sunny. Now I know from having met him and talked to him that this wasn't in his realm of experiences. He hollered back "ya'llrite,?" Up here that is pronounced as one word. I answered him that I was fine. The best thing about this is that if I were to fall down screaming Sunny would still bite at the bit and come back. Now I know that I am not the only dog person that knows this trick. My advice would be the following. If you come upon a situation where there is a person hollering in pain on the ground and there is a dog sashaying up the street. Give it a minute. If the dog comes back and the owner is doing an AHA and has the dog under control and gets up off the ground, the situation is solved. If the dog doesn't return and the person gets up off the ground and heads for their car to play the ultimate card which is to fool the dog by thinking it is going for ride, the situation is solved. But, if the dog continues on it's way and the person is still on the ground making distressing noises you might want to go investigate. Kind of shuffle on over, lean down and say "ya'll rite?"
Here at last....
This story begins at the end. I'm a senior citizen to be politically correct, also known as an old fart, fogey etc. But the beginning for me started 40 years ago when as a woman in my early 20's I took off a year from college, got divorced and went on a quest to find myself. You know all that '70s stuff. I wound up in the Blue Ridge mountains of my native Virginia. Some of the most important things I learned there was the value of solitude, the beauty of nature and that government cheese lasts forever. I don't know what they put in that stuff but it doesn't get moldy or hard and isn't bad when melted. But I digress . I didn't find myself there. I didn't realize that I was too young and there was nothing to find. I always promised myself that I would find a way to get back to that beauty and solitude. Forty years later I amassed an impressive resume, an interesting life, a lot of baggage and six Dalmatians who collectively are known as the Doo's.
It was during a particularly trying time that I happened on this house on the top of a mountain with a creek and solitude and the wonderful mountain air. I knew we had found our home and this was one I could cross of my bucket list. Long story short, we are here....
One other bit of useless information is that the Doos and I are truly a pack. A pack in terms, of canines, is a group that lives and works together for the good of the pack and is governed by rules of heirachy. In the wild, a pack is usually made up of animals that are related. This is true of our pack too. Now with all the other BS out of the way, let me introduce you to the cast of characters (and they are characters, and clowns and the loves of my life)
Mama (62 yrs): This is me, the human. I like to think of myself as the pack leader. I'm not sure the Doos agree but they put up with me and consider me an "honorary" Dalamatian even if I don't have beautiful fur, sharp teeth and run like a wounded wart hog. They do consider me the kibble hunter and the kibble giver which is an extremely high position in the pack. They are amazed at my ability to leave the pack in that machine and return with all sorts of food and gigantic bags of kibble and goodies. I am also very generous in that I share my "kill" with them. As long as I do this I will remain the top of the food chain. The alternative is that relinquish my seniority and rely on what they kill and share. Having lived with these creatures, I know that they consider something dead and rotting as a "goodie" and that they have brought me offerings of headless and wingless birds not to mention the number of animal and reptile parts that they proudly wanted to share.
Sunny (8 yrs): A beautiful black and white male who is the Alpha dog and is the father of four of the other Doos. He is also a clown, a nosey busybody, never met a stranger and is in tune to the fact that all humans want to be kissed and slobbered on by him while he rests all 63 pounds of himself in their lap. He once told a dog psychic that he thought people were "inefficient" and somewhat ugly. We didn't run fast and we had no fur or teeth (like his I'm assuming). Sunny is the leading man in several notorious "Sunny stories", such as "the panty king". But I digess again. I do that alot. Sunny pretty much runs the pack. I tell someone to do something and they look at him to check it out. Luckily, he is very benevolent and usually agrees with me. This is confirmed by the dog in question doing what I ask or totally ignoring me. I often remind him that he may be the boss of the other Doos, but I'm the boss of him. I get the impression that he is saying to himself, "yeah, right".
Lotto(11 yrs): The sweetest little old girl in the world. She is petite if chubby (takes after mama) little blk/white Dal lady. She is the mother of 3 of the other Doo's. She is Sunny's mate and my soulmate. Lotto rules the roost and and that does include Sunny. She has given in to a life of hanging out on the bed (usually with her butt on my pillow) eating rawhide chews and occasionally barking at imaginary sounds or just for the hell of it. She is the poster child for ODA (old dog attitude) which is a condition that any person living with an older dog will recognize immediately. It is recognized by the general attitude of "I'm an old dog and I'll do as I please and what are you going to do? answer: nothing". This is accompanied by walking at an extremely slow pace except when a treat or car ride is involved. Another symptom is selective hearing, as in "I can't hear you because I'm an old dog", but open a bag of chips 2 blocks away and you will see the speed of light defined. The last symptom is a classic. It is the "I cant get off the____ (fill it in with a word such as bed, couch,etc.) because I'm an old dog and might hurt myself". This however is contrasted by the height the same dog can jump to get up on said bed or couch. Lotto is a classic example of this. She sleeps with me on the bed and insists that she spoon me under the covers with the twist that her butt is facing my head. Lotto also has a farting problem. Of course it's no problem for her. I try to respond by farting on her but my butt is not in her face and she just doesn't care. I want to come back as an old dog!
Riggins (7 yrs): Now this is a character! He is Lotto's and Sunny's son and Siren's littermate. Riggins was born 5 hours after the other pups in his litter and I worried that he would have problems because of it. That was before I had lived with him and came to realize that that was just his way. There is an old saying "no matter what the band played, he danced to Stardust". That is a very good description of Riggins. He has his own way of living life and one of the ways is by having the most annoying high and consistent bark. He has no respect for any of the other Doos except for his mother, Lotto, who will kick his ass in a heartbeat and Sunny who he constantly sucks up to. Other than that he pretty much is a normal dog. Although I admit that I don't know what a normal dog is, never having lived with one. He is the sweetest boy on earth, but he knows he will never be the alpha. Instead, he likes to boss his sisters and brother around until they push back. He loves to play with toys and his favorite toys are a roll of toilet paper or a roll of paper towels. Give him one of these and you will see a very happy dog but you will also have a blizzard in your living room. No big pieces mind you, very small pieces and a lot of them. You know the kind. The ones that are on the floor and the vacuum cleaner won't pick up So, you bend over after running the vacuum over it 10 or 12 times refusing to give in and you find that it isn't super-glued to the rug but just a small light weight scrap of paper towel. Riggins is never ashamed of himself and is usually very proud of his decorating abilities and somewhat annoyed that you don't share his tastes. When that fails he will put on his "It wasn't me attitude" As a finishing note we have this invisible "bad dog" that comes to our house and does all the bad things that get blamed on the Doos. The "bad dog" is especially fond of counter cruising, paper shredding and tearing up the trash.
Siren (7 yrs): Toe-Toes is what she goes by. This is Riggin's littermate and where you see one you will see the other. Toe-toes came by that nickname because when she was just a little puppy (2 or 3 weeks old) and I would hold her and pet her she would pull her toes up. She takes a lot after her her mother. She is sweet and gentle and a great dancer. Her dance consists of getting down low and curving herself into a "U" and wagging her butt while she shuffles her front feet and then abruptly changing direction and doing it all over again. When she gets really excited between changing direction she will get up on her hind legs and wave her front paws side to side. Toes loves everybody especially puppies. She is another snuggle-bug (with out the farting, but I'm assuming given time she will take after her mother). She is a beautiful blk/white Dal girl with absolutely the blackest eyes and the sweetest face. She is one of those "good" dogs who doesn't chew shoes or tear up paper and is a very hard act to follow. She is obedient. She's like that kid in class or a brother or sister who never got into trouble and you hated. But as for me I'll snuggle my Toe-toes anytime.
Mira (6 1/2 yrs): What can I say about Mira. She is Sunny and Lotto's daughter and a full sister to Riggins and Siren. Mira came from an "oops" litter. She is an absolutely beautiful blk/white girl who looks like her father Sunny and displays some of his most annoying traits. Of course unlike Sunny, Mira hates everybody including other dogs. Of course this doesn't include her family. Her best friend is her brother Sunfire (we'll get to him in a minute). Mira was born with an attitude. Her father Sunny thinks the world revolves around Mira. She's the only dog I've ever seen who can walk into Sunny's crate and take his bone without incident. She doesn't mess with her mother Lotto because again she will kick her ass in a heartbeat as will her sister Siren. No wonder she has an attitude. Mira's nick name is "Mouse" or "Foo-foo Mouse". Now I know that you are thinking "this woman has lost her mind". True as that may be, it has nothing to do with her nickname, and if you see my mind will you please send it home. All the Doos have a song of their own. Mira's is "Bunny Foo Foo". There is a line in the song that says that Bunny Foo Foo sees a little mouse and bops it on the head. Again when Mouse was a very small puppy, (a couple of weeks old) I would sing the song to her and when we came to the part where Bunny Foo Foo bops the mouse, she would duck her head. To answer what you are thinking, No, I didn't bop her on the head, I would kiss the top of her head. Anyway, that's how she got her name.
Sunfire (3 yrs): This is the baby of the pack. He gets no respect from anyone and it's beginning to piss him off. Sunfire is Sunny's son from a planned incestuous relationship. Let me put it this way, his aunt is his mother and his uncle is his father. Sunny and Merica (Sunfire's mother) are only half brother and sister. Sunfire is an extremely handsome and correct male Dal. He came to live with us when he was 4 months old. The first thing that everyone did from Lotto down was to roll him in the dirt and give him a growl. Thus confirming his pack order. In this case it was bottom dog. Mira was so glad to see him because now she had someone to pick on. Sunfire is the heir apparent, but Sunny is not about to let that go easily. Hence Sunfire and Sunny can not be out together. Everyone in the pack has a job. Mine is kibble hunter, Sunny runs the pack, Lotto is Queen Bee, Riggins job is to suck up to Sunny, Siren is the groomer and Mira was the lookout and sentry (perfect for her personality). All members of the pack have had this job when they were the youngest. So Mira naturally thought that she would pass it on to Sunfire and move on to better things. Wrong! She didn't count on Sunfire's lack of interest in the job. Try as she may, he wouldn't do it. Two and a half years later his only job is head goober. Of course Mira and he became BFF (if you don't know what it means, go ask an 8 year old). She is still the sentry and now Sunfire gallops around with her trying to pretend to be interested. If the truth was told, an axe murderer could be in the yard and Sunfire wouldn't sound the alarm. We don't rely on Sunfire for our safety.
Getting older has it drawbacks. I'm becoming my grandfather. When he would try to address one of us he would go through the whole list of names and wind up with "whoever you are". I find my self doing that. I also sometimes call Sunfire, "Sunflower". No that is not and affectionate nickname, I'm old and I get confused. The result of which is that Sunfire now answers to "Sunflower" or "whoever you are".
It was during a particularly trying time that I happened on this house on the top of a mountain with a creek and solitude and the wonderful mountain air. I knew we had found our home and this was one I could cross of my bucket list. Long story short, we are here....
One other bit of useless information is that the Doos and I are truly a pack. A pack in terms, of canines, is a group that lives and works together for the good of the pack and is governed by rules of heirachy. In the wild, a pack is usually made up of animals that are related. This is true of our pack too. Now with all the other BS out of the way, let me introduce you to the cast of characters (and they are characters, and clowns and the loves of my life)
Mama (62 yrs): This is me, the human. I like to think of myself as the pack leader. I'm not sure the Doos agree but they put up with me and consider me an "honorary" Dalamatian even if I don't have beautiful fur, sharp teeth and run like a wounded wart hog. They do consider me the kibble hunter and the kibble giver which is an extremely high position in the pack. They are amazed at my ability to leave the pack in that machine and return with all sorts of food and gigantic bags of kibble and goodies. I am also very generous in that I share my "kill" with them. As long as I do this I will remain the top of the food chain. The alternative is that relinquish my seniority and rely on what they kill and share. Having lived with these creatures, I know that they consider something dead and rotting as a "goodie" and that they have brought me offerings of headless and wingless birds not to mention the number of animal and reptile parts that they proudly wanted to share.
Sunny (8 yrs): A beautiful black and white male who is the Alpha dog and is the father of four of the other Doos. He is also a clown, a nosey busybody, never met a stranger and is in tune to the fact that all humans want to be kissed and slobbered on by him while he rests all 63 pounds of himself in their lap. He once told a dog psychic that he thought people were "inefficient" and somewhat ugly. We didn't run fast and we had no fur or teeth (like his I'm assuming). Sunny is the leading man in several notorious "Sunny stories", such as "the panty king". But I digess again. I do that alot. Sunny pretty much runs the pack. I tell someone to do something and they look at him to check it out. Luckily, he is very benevolent and usually agrees with me. This is confirmed by the dog in question doing what I ask or totally ignoring me. I often remind him that he may be the boss of the other Doos, but I'm the boss of him. I get the impression that he is saying to himself, "yeah, right".
Lotto(11 yrs): The sweetest little old girl in the world. She is petite if chubby (takes after mama) little blk/white Dal lady. She is the mother of 3 of the other Doo's. She is Sunny's mate and my soulmate. Lotto rules the roost and and that does include Sunny. She has given in to a life of hanging out on the bed (usually with her butt on my pillow) eating rawhide chews and occasionally barking at imaginary sounds or just for the hell of it. She is the poster child for ODA (old dog attitude) which is a condition that any person living with an older dog will recognize immediately. It is recognized by the general attitude of "I'm an old dog and I'll do as I please and what are you going to do? answer: nothing". This is accompanied by walking at an extremely slow pace except when a treat or car ride is involved. Another symptom is selective hearing, as in "I can't hear you because I'm an old dog", but open a bag of chips 2 blocks away and you will see the speed of light defined. The last symptom is a classic. It is the "I cant get off the____ (fill it in with a word such as bed, couch,etc.) because I'm an old dog and might hurt myself". This however is contrasted by the height the same dog can jump to get up on said bed or couch. Lotto is a classic example of this. She sleeps with me on the bed and insists that she spoon me under the covers with the twist that her butt is facing my head. Lotto also has a farting problem. Of course it's no problem for her. I try to respond by farting on her but my butt is not in her face and she just doesn't care. I want to come back as an old dog!
Riggins (7 yrs): Now this is a character! He is Lotto's and Sunny's son and Siren's littermate. Riggins was born 5 hours after the other pups in his litter and I worried that he would have problems because of it. That was before I had lived with him and came to realize that that was just his way. There is an old saying "no matter what the band played, he danced to Stardust". That is a very good description of Riggins. He has his own way of living life and one of the ways is by having the most annoying high and consistent bark. He has no respect for any of the other Doos except for his mother, Lotto, who will kick his ass in a heartbeat and Sunny who he constantly sucks up to. Other than that he pretty much is a normal dog. Although I admit that I don't know what a normal dog is, never having lived with one. He is the sweetest boy on earth, but he knows he will never be the alpha. Instead, he likes to boss his sisters and brother around until they push back. He loves to play with toys and his favorite toys are a roll of toilet paper or a roll of paper towels. Give him one of these and you will see a very happy dog but you will also have a blizzard in your living room. No big pieces mind you, very small pieces and a lot of them. You know the kind. The ones that are on the floor and the vacuum cleaner won't pick up So, you bend over after running the vacuum over it 10 or 12 times refusing to give in and you find that it isn't super-glued to the rug but just a small light weight scrap of paper towel. Riggins is never ashamed of himself and is usually very proud of his decorating abilities and somewhat annoyed that you don't share his tastes. When that fails he will put on his "It wasn't me attitude" As a finishing note we have this invisible "bad dog" that comes to our house and does all the bad things that get blamed on the Doos. The "bad dog" is especially fond of counter cruising, paper shredding and tearing up the trash.
Siren (7 yrs): Toe-Toes is what she goes by. This is Riggin's littermate and where you see one you will see the other. Toe-toes came by that nickname because when she was just a little puppy (2 or 3 weeks old) and I would hold her and pet her she would pull her toes up. She takes a lot after her her mother. She is sweet and gentle and a great dancer. Her dance consists of getting down low and curving herself into a "U" and wagging her butt while she shuffles her front feet and then abruptly changing direction and doing it all over again. When she gets really excited between changing direction she will get up on her hind legs and wave her front paws side to side. Toes loves everybody especially puppies. She is another snuggle-bug (with out the farting, but I'm assuming given time she will take after her mother). She is a beautiful blk/white Dal girl with absolutely the blackest eyes and the sweetest face. She is one of those "good" dogs who doesn't chew shoes or tear up paper and is a very hard act to follow. She is obedient. She's like that kid in class or a brother or sister who never got into trouble and you hated. But as for me I'll snuggle my Toe-toes anytime.
Mira (6 1/2 yrs): What can I say about Mira. She is Sunny and Lotto's daughter and a full sister to Riggins and Siren. Mira came from an "oops" litter. She is an absolutely beautiful blk/white girl who looks like her father Sunny and displays some of his most annoying traits. Of course unlike Sunny, Mira hates everybody including other dogs. Of course this doesn't include her family. Her best friend is her brother Sunfire (we'll get to him in a minute). Mira was born with an attitude. Her father Sunny thinks the world revolves around Mira. She's the only dog I've ever seen who can walk into Sunny's crate and take his bone without incident. She doesn't mess with her mother Lotto because again she will kick her ass in a heartbeat as will her sister Siren. No wonder she has an attitude. Mira's nick name is "Mouse" or "Foo-foo Mouse". Now I know that you are thinking "this woman has lost her mind". True as that may be, it has nothing to do with her nickname, and if you see my mind will you please send it home. All the Doos have a song of their own. Mira's is "Bunny Foo Foo". There is a line in the song that says that Bunny Foo Foo sees a little mouse and bops it on the head. Again when Mouse was a very small puppy, (a couple of weeks old) I would sing the song to her and when we came to the part where Bunny Foo Foo bops the mouse, she would duck her head. To answer what you are thinking, No, I didn't bop her on the head, I would kiss the top of her head. Anyway, that's how she got her name.
Sunfire (3 yrs): This is the baby of the pack. He gets no respect from anyone and it's beginning to piss him off. Sunfire is Sunny's son from a planned incestuous relationship. Let me put it this way, his aunt is his mother and his uncle is his father. Sunny and Merica (Sunfire's mother) are only half brother and sister. Sunfire is an extremely handsome and correct male Dal. He came to live with us when he was 4 months old. The first thing that everyone did from Lotto down was to roll him in the dirt and give him a growl. Thus confirming his pack order. In this case it was bottom dog. Mira was so glad to see him because now she had someone to pick on. Sunfire is the heir apparent, but Sunny is not about to let that go easily. Hence Sunfire and Sunny can not be out together. Everyone in the pack has a job. Mine is kibble hunter, Sunny runs the pack, Lotto is Queen Bee, Riggins job is to suck up to Sunny, Siren is the groomer and Mira was the lookout and sentry (perfect for her personality). All members of the pack have had this job when they were the youngest. So Mira naturally thought that she would pass it on to Sunfire and move on to better things. Wrong! She didn't count on Sunfire's lack of interest in the job. Try as she may, he wouldn't do it. Two and a half years later his only job is head goober. Of course Mira and he became BFF (if you don't know what it means, go ask an 8 year old). She is still the sentry and now Sunfire gallops around with her trying to pretend to be interested. If the truth was told, an axe murderer could be in the yard and Sunfire wouldn't sound the alarm. We don't rely on Sunfire for our safety.
Getting older has it drawbacks. I'm becoming my grandfather. When he would try to address one of us he would go through the whole list of names and wind up with "whoever you are". I find my self doing that. I also sometimes call Sunfire, "Sunflower". No that is not and affectionate nickname, I'm old and I get confused. The result of which is that Sunfire now answers to "Sunflower" or "whoever you are".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)