As I already mentioned, we have been leaving Kira out of her crate at night and she has stopped the wolf howling. Today, I took a chance and left her out of her crate while I went to work. I was away for 9 hours, and when I returned everything was as I left it. But Kira was so calm and happy. I took her outside and she did her business. All of it. No more accidents in the house. For most of her life, she has spent most of her waking hours in a crate, and for that reason, we are currently leaving the crate in place, with the door open in case she wants to go into it for security. But I believe she will eventually be completely free of it.
We still need to get more weight on her. We have held off weighing her because of the disappointment from the last weigh-in, when she had LOST two pounds. I am hopeful that she has put on four or five pounds since then. She's still bony, but not as frighteningly skeletal as she was before. H makes me laugh. He has started feeding her with a fork! Well, at least he did it for a couple of meals. I have not personally observed this phenomenon, but I can imagine it... And the image is delightful. He says he doesn't intend to make a habit of it, but it seemed to help her when he did it. It may take her a while, but she does eat her entire meal, usually leaving one or two kibbles for the cats. Ziggy used to inhale his meal as if he was never going to eat again. Not so with Kira. She grazes.
So, we continue to progress. I hope we don't lose ground when we leave her at the kennel during our trip to Europe to visit our elusive offspring living his elusive university life. But that's a month and a half away. Much more progress can be made before then...
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Back in Town
I just got back from a four-day "Stitching" retreat, where I had a blast: stitching (needlepoint), walking in the country, shopping, drinking scotch, and generally having a relaxing fun time. I completed one very intricate project and and made good progress on another. While I was gone, Kira made even more progress. You may be surprised to hear that she is currently sleeping on the floor next to me as I write this...upstairs. As in upstairs where only the cats are allowed. As in upstairs, where I never wanted to have a dog ... taboo for dog fur and dog dribble (but not cats). Yep, she's upstairs with me. She ... earned the priviledge. She is wonderfully devoted to ME. Not the truck god. Me. I love it. And it feels really nice having her up here with me. I earned it too.
Another great bit of progress is that H left her out of her crate during the night and while he went on little errands this weekend. He actually just left the crate open and allowed her to make the decision as to whether she wanted to be in it or not. She stayed out of it and slept with the cats. Is that funny? He did, however, keep her in the tiled family room/kitchen area and she was comfortable enough that she did not howl or jump on the doors. That REALLY feels great. We will leave her out of the crate tonight, too, but not while we are at work this week. We'll get there, though, I'm sure.
She communicates in ways Ziggy never did. Sometimes she just comes up to you and looks you squarely in the face and it's like she telepathically (is that even a word?) lets you know what she wants. I THINK it's the same look every time, but maybe there are subtle differences. Sometimes she wants out to do her business. Sometimes she wants you to uncover her dish so she can finish her meal ... she is a very slow eater and we have to cover her dish so that cats don't become blimps. They REALLY like her food. Sometimes she wants to go for a walk. But she is not demanding about it.
I have had (and loved) many cats, but I have never had a dog until Ziggy. I loved Ziggy very much and I miss him, but this feeling I have for Kira is different. Kira has reached me in a way Ziggy did not. It's the same way that Daily and I connected. There is a sort of bond between us that I never thought I'd have with a dog. Me and a dog? And a dog that gets along so well with my beloved cats? It's a wonderful thing!
Another great bit of progress is that H left her out of her crate during the night and while he went on little errands this weekend. He actually just left the crate open and allowed her to make the decision as to whether she wanted to be in it or not. She stayed out of it and slept with the cats. Is that funny? He did, however, keep her in the tiled family room/kitchen area and she was comfortable enough that she did not howl or jump on the doors. That REALLY feels great. We will leave her out of the crate tonight, too, but not while we are at work this week. We'll get there, though, I'm sure.
She communicates in ways Ziggy never did. Sometimes she just comes up to you and looks you squarely in the face and it's like she telepathically (is that even a word?) lets you know what she wants. I THINK it's the same look every time, but maybe there are subtle differences. Sometimes she wants out to do her business. Sometimes she wants you to uncover her dish so she can finish her meal ... she is a very slow eater and we have to cover her dish so that cats don't become blimps. They REALLY like her food. Sometimes she wants to go for a walk. But she is not demanding about it.
I have had (and loved) many cats, but I have never had a dog until Ziggy. I loved Ziggy very much and I miss him, but this feeling I have for Kira is different. Kira has reached me in a way Ziggy did not. It's the same way that Daily and I connected. There is a sort of bond between us that I never thought I'd have with a dog. Me and a dog? And a dog that gets along so well with my beloved cats? It's a wonderful thing!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Another Reason Why H is my Favorite Husband
I married a really nice guy, worthy of being anyone's favorite husband, but lucky for me, he's mine. Among the myriad reasons he should be anyone's favorite is this thoughtful thing he did while I was in Houston: Knowing that I like to do the Washington Post Sudoku puzzle every day, H saved every one of them for me so I could do them when I returned. They were neatly stacked on the dishwasher when I came home last Sunday. And now when I sit on the front porch with my glass of wine and Kira beside me in the evenings, waiting for H to come home (I get home before he does), I have a nice pile of Sudokus that I can work through. The easy ones go really fast, which is good because sometimes I work for days on the hard ones. I really love the Samari Sudoku in the Sunday comic section. I have saved every one of those since they started a couple of years ago. I photocopy that one, enlarging it for easier reading, and keep the original. Anyway, H is a nice hub.
I'm nice to him, too, you know. This weekend, I did not prevent him from buying a used motorcycle. I don't like the idea of it, but hey, it seems to be a midlife crisis...wait a minute! He already had a midlife crisis when he bought the BAT (big assed truck), a 2500 Dodge Ram. I remember thinking that a new truck was better than a new red-head. So, what's this motorcycle all about? Can it be yet ANOTHER mid-life crisis? Is that possible? Well, I'll say this: I'd better be HIS favorite wife! (Of course, he's only had one wife: me)
OK, here's the story about the motorcycle. He and my son plan to do a "Long Way Around" kind of tour after the elusive offspring graduates from his elusive university life next year. They won't go as far as Ewan McGregor's and Charlie Boorman's world tour; they will probably just travel Scotland, England and France. But they want to do it on motorcycles. So they are getting some riding hours in ahead of time, making me quite nervous, as I value both of them very much. Originally, I had thought to do the tour with them, but I don't think I'm going to have time to practice enough riding to feel comfortable. So then I thought maybe my sister and I could be their support wagon, but that would be boring, just following them around. Now, I have a new idea. My sister and I could meet up with the guys every third day. Let them do their riding and camping out thing and we could do the tourist thing. We'll see what happens as they start finalizing their plans.
I can't believe I embedded two URL sites in this post. Cool.
I'm nice to him, too, you know. This weekend, I did not prevent him from buying a used motorcycle. I don't like the idea of it, but hey, it seems to be a midlife crisis...wait a minute! He already had a midlife crisis when he bought the BAT (big assed truck), a 2500 Dodge Ram. I remember thinking that a new truck was better than a new red-head. So, what's this motorcycle all about? Can it be yet ANOTHER mid-life crisis? Is that possible? Well, I'll say this: I'd better be HIS favorite wife! (Of course, he's only had one wife: me)
OK, here's the story about the motorcycle. He and my son plan to do a "Long Way Around" kind of tour after the elusive offspring graduates from his elusive university life next year. They won't go as far as Ewan McGregor's and Charlie Boorman's world tour; they will probably just travel Scotland, England and France. But they want to do it on motorcycles. So they are getting some riding hours in ahead of time, making me quite nervous, as I value both of them very much. Originally, I had thought to do the tour with them, but I don't think I'm going to have time to practice enough riding to feel comfortable. So then I thought maybe my sister and I could be their support wagon, but that would be boring, just following them around. Now, I have a new idea. My sister and I could meet up with the guys every third day. Let them do their riding and camping out thing and we could do the tourist thing. We'll see what happens as they start finalizing their plans.
I can't believe I embedded two URL sites in this post. Cool.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Life is Good
I wish I could bring Kira to work with me. I’d have to bring her cushy bed, so she could sleep on the floor near me, without hurting her boney body. Daily would have to come, too, because he is my familiar and he must be with me always. He would need his litter box, of course. And I should not leave Wolfie out of the equation, so he would have to come, too. I’d need a big bowl of water for them, because desicated pets are never a good thing. I'd need some treats and a toy or two. A nice selection of teas for me and a good kettle to boil the water. Music, you have to have good music when you work. A comfy cosy afghan for when it gets too cold.
Well, heck, I’d need the truck to bring all this stuff in! Why can’t I just work from home every day? My work-at-home day is my very favorite day. I dress any old way. I make a pot of tea and bring it to the computer. I play music at any volume I wish. I open the window shades and have a nice view of the back yard while I work. The cats climb on the desk to look out the window or on the extra chair to sleep. I have fresh vegetables in the fridge for a much healthier lunch than I get at the office.
I notice that I get so much more work done when I work from home. No one comes to my office to bother me. I get fewer calls. One of the days during the week before I went to Houston, I had a specific project I needed to finish, a list of issues in my new case. I figured it would take me 30 minutes to an hour to get it done. So I started. Just as I was getting into the swing of it, I got a phone call about another case with what was supposed to be a quick question. I thought I could stop everything and get the answer, but while I was looking on line for the documents that would give me the answer, an e-mail popped up that required my immediate attention, so I dropped everything to take care of that, at which point there was a knock at my door…my supervisor needed something, and supervisors take precedence. This went on all day, until, by the end of the day, I had at least 8 things to do and nothing had been completed. I have not even mentioned the friends who stopped by to chat … some of them have more difficulty leaving than others. Anyway, by 4:30, I realized that my heightened state of frustration would keep me from accomplishing anything. So I just left everything undone on my desk and went home. The next morning, I got up early and got into the office by 6:30 a.m. I managed to finish the issues list by 7:00. Then I turned to each of the other items and finished them one by one. Fate was with me and I had no major interruptions to prevent me from doing the work. By the end of the day I managed to finish everything that had piled up the previous day, and got ahead of the eight-ball by writing up my case profiles (a tedious job we have to do every week or two) drafting discovery in another case, organizing my files, and putting everything in order for my week away from the office. Dang, that felt good! My desk was so clean it looked like I had no work to do. Hmmm, better rethink that!
As a result of accomplishing all that work, I didn’t give a thought to any of my cases while I was in Houston. Big mistake. I am now swamped. Forget having completed all that stuff before I left. The work piled up again. But, I really can't complain. I do love being a litigator. It is all I ever wanted to do. What’s nice about it is that no case is ever quite the same. Each one is fresh. Sure, you do the usual discovery and motions and briefs, but the details are always different. So much of this can be done from home that I do well away from the office.
And that brings me full circle to the idea of being at home, working, with the cats and Kira nearby, and a nice cup of tea. Which is what I am doing now...well, WAS doing before I interrupted myself to write this post. Now, back to work. Life is good.
Well, heck, I’d need the truck to bring all this stuff in! Why can’t I just work from home every day? My work-at-home day is my very favorite day. I dress any old way. I make a pot of tea and bring it to the computer. I play music at any volume I wish. I open the window shades and have a nice view of the back yard while I work. The cats climb on the desk to look out the window or on the extra chair to sleep. I have fresh vegetables in the fridge for a much healthier lunch than I get at the office.
I notice that I get so much more work done when I work from home. No one comes to my office to bother me. I get fewer calls. One of the days during the week before I went to Houston, I had a specific project I needed to finish, a list of issues in my new case. I figured it would take me 30 minutes to an hour to get it done. So I started. Just as I was getting into the swing of it, I got a phone call about another case with what was supposed to be a quick question. I thought I could stop everything and get the answer, but while I was looking on line for the documents that would give me the answer, an e-mail popped up that required my immediate attention, so I dropped everything to take care of that, at which point there was a knock at my door…my supervisor needed something, and supervisors take precedence. This went on all day, until, by the end of the day, I had at least 8 things to do and nothing had been completed. I have not even mentioned the friends who stopped by to chat … some of them have more difficulty leaving than others. Anyway, by 4:30, I realized that my heightened state of frustration would keep me from accomplishing anything. So I just left everything undone on my desk and went home. The next morning, I got up early and got into the office by 6:30 a.m. I managed to finish the issues list by 7:00. Then I turned to each of the other items and finished them one by one. Fate was with me and I had no major interruptions to prevent me from doing the work. By the end of the day I managed to finish everything that had piled up the previous day, and got ahead of the eight-ball by writing up my case profiles (a tedious job we have to do every week or two) drafting discovery in another case, organizing my files, and putting everything in order for my week away from the office. Dang, that felt good! My desk was so clean it looked like I had no work to do. Hmmm, better rethink that!
As a result of accomplishing all that work, I didn’t give a thought to any of my cases while I was in Houston. Big mistake. I am now swamped. Forget having completed all that stuff before I left. The work piled up again. But, I really can't complain. I do love being a litigator. It is all I ever wanted to do. What’s nice about it is that no case is ever quite the same. Each one is fresh. Sure, you do the usual discovery and motions and briefs, but the details are always different. So much of this can be done from home that I do well away from the office.
And that brings me full circle to the idea of being at home, working, with the cats and Kira nearby, and a nice cup of tea. Which is what I am doing now...well, WAS doing before I interrupted myself to write this post. Now, back to work. Life is good.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Irresistible
A friend sent this to me...if you love cats, you will really love this. I laughed so hard that the guy in the office next to mine had to come over and see if I was all right!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHXBL6bzAR4
Anyway, you gotta love a guy that loves cats! And this one REALLY understands them!
Even if you don't love cats, this is worth watching.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHXBL6bzAR4
Anyway, you gotta love a guy that loves cats! And this one REALLY understands them!
Even if you don't love cats, this is worth watching.
Progress (Part II)
My favorite husband and I talked last night about how Kira is coming along. Wait, before I go on, let me explain about the reference to "my favorite husband." Whenever I say that, people often ask "how many husbands have you had?" ... which appears to be the obvious conclusion. Or is it? Well, let me say that I've only had one husband: Out of all the husbands there are in the world, H is my favorite one. He just happens to be mine. It's so simple. The English language is a wonderful thing.
OK, so back to the conversation we had about how far Kira has come in the last three and a half weeks. Here are some mile stones.
1. She comes instantly when called. We can let her go off leash when we are in the back yard. I've also let her off leash in the unfenced park that all my neighbors use as a dog park. But I’m not quite ready to leave her off leash when we are far away from the house.
2. She is not a wild child any more. She no longer runs through the house between the front door and back door, barking madly. She is very calm with us and loves to stretch out on her bed in the living room when we are there. When we are outside, she doesn’t instigate other dogs into a frenzy like she did her two brothers at Karen’s house. She barks and plays, but she's not crazy and wild. Following Caesar's Way, we give her lots of affection when she is in a calm state of mind. And it’s a good thing that she is almost always calm now because it’s impossible to keep your hands off of her. She is an absolutely beautiful, loving dog, with silky fur that must be touched.
3. She doesn’t wolf-sing all night. She sings for about a minute before she sleeps at night. I like that, because her singing is very pretty,but I confess I don’t want to hear it all night. I got an e-mail from Karen who says that Kira always howled when she wanted to be in the same room with her. Kira does seem to be learning that, even if we are out of her sight, we are still her pack.
4. She does not get on the furniture. Well, we had one funny incident early on when H scared her by clapping his hands at naughty Wolfie (who was about to knock over the Easter cactus), and Kira flew onto the sofa next to me and curled up into a ball as small as Daily, all within two seconds time. I got her off the sofa and put her on her bed and she realized no one was mad at her. I really wonder what happened to Kira before Karen got her. There was another incident right before I went to Houston. I had gone upstairs to take a call from my sister. H was out of the room, too. I don't know what happened, but suddenly we heard a terrible racket and raced down stairs to see a frightening sight: one of my Tiffany-style lamps was moments away from hitting the hardwood floor. Kira was sitting nervously on her bed. The lamp was propped half against my sheet-covered loom and half against the sofa, barely holding on. Certain items (loom, piano) are still covered with sheets in the living room because we are not quite finished with the dining room rennovation project. Anyway, I have no idea how Kira managed to knock the lamp over, but I think she may have scared herself off the furniture for now. So I call this a milestone.
5. We can now brush her. The first time we tried to brush her, she got so nervous that she peed…thank goodness she was in the back yard at the time. NOT brushing her is not really an option because she has longer fur that must be groomed. At the same time, I don’t want to frighten her. So we have been very careful to use the soft side of the brush and at the same time use our free hand to stroke her. It's funny to see a big GSD so afraid of it, when my little Wolfie Devil-Cat will grab the brush in his two front paws and hold it in place so that he can rub his face all over it. If you even say the word "brush," Wolfie comes running. I do think Kira might actually like it now. She particularly loves to have her face stroked. I give her face massages. Again, I wonder what happened in her previous life before Karen. Did someone try to use her as a show dog in her early life? I understand that show dogs must constantly be brushed. And she is so boney that it must have hurt her. Anyway, I consider it a milestone that she now likes being brushed.
6. She does her business outside now, and this week, she has been very good about going in the morning and in the evening. We have not had any accidents for a week. I really expect her to figure out this aspect of life very quickly. She is an incredibly smart dog. And I don’t blame her for any of the accidents. Although I’m glad we have a tiled family room and kitchen, I think it has caused a bit of confusion for her. At Karen’s, she used the tiny townhouse back yard, which was entirely paved/bricked, and Karen said Kira didn't like to go while on a walk. So, we think she thought she was supposed to use the tiled area in the house. Thank goodness for this milestone.
7. We think we have broken her of the habit of getting up on her back legs to push open a door. It is frustrating that we now have scratches on two of the doors in the kitchen. They are not horrendous scratches, but it bothers us that the house has managed to go for a hundred years without dog scratches on the doors, until now. She still manages to push open the door from the kitchen to the family room to let the cats out (we close them into the family room while she eats because they REALLY like her food). I think she uses her nose to open the door now, because she's quiet about it.
8. It’s SO easy to clip her claws! She is such a princess! Technically, Karen accomplished this milestone with her, but I just wanted to include it in the great Kira accomplishments.
9. She is great with kids and adults, and other dogs. Where Ziggy was unbelievably dominant around other dogs, Kira is willing to be everybody’s friend and loves playing. She is intimidated by some dogs. Ziggy was completely fearless; no dog or person ever scared him. He was very confident, but not mean in the least. He was aloof, but willing to meet people. Kira is a total kid magnet. She loves the attention. I think that the elusive offspring is going to find her to be a “chick magnet” too, if he ever returns from his elusive university life.
10. She smiles now, that big smile that is so typical of German Shepherd dogs. And she does the puppy ears when I lean down to hug her. That is one of my all-time favorite things. I love to see those giant (and I mean GIANT) pointed ears go down over her neck like a puppy, and her big grin, with tongue hanging out. Damn, that’s sweet!
Things aren't all coming up roses just yet. Here are things we would like to accomplish with her:
1. We’d like to put some more weight on her. Ideally, at her height, she should weigh close to 80 pounds. She's only 58-60 pounds right now. We plan to take her in and weigh her soon, but we don't want to be disappointed again. It’s hard to get her to eat. It’s never the same any two meals in a row. No two breakfasts or dinners are the same. Karen suggested that we try using some low-fat peanut butter (apparently low fat is necessary because dogs don't do well with fat; they need protein). So, we will continue to be as patient as we can. I give her little bits of cheese and egg sometimes. And I have discovered some treats that she likes. She is such a spoiled little brat. What I'd REALLY like in the long run is to get her on the dry food exclusively. It's so much better for her teeth and regularity. The frustrating thing is that the cats are sneaking her food (even at the same time she is eating, which tells you how sweet she is with the cats), and the cats are getting fatter and Kira is still skinny!
2. We’d like to know for certain that she will do her business outside in the morning and at night before bedtime, so we can get her out of the crate. Karen said she would wake her at midnight or one in the morning to go outside. We’d like not to have that. I feel like we are making great headway on this issue. No more about bathroom habits, please.
3. She still wants to put her paws on us when we are seated. It’s cute, but it just ain’t right. For one thing, you don’t want muddy paw prints on your nice clothing. For another, it’s a form of “domination.” Also, she can scratch you accidentally. This is a very hard habit to break.
4. I’d like to completely break her of the habit of jumping up on us when we are standing. We are doing well with this by taking a step forward and bumping into her as she jumps up. It throws her off balance and she doesn't like that. We have gone a good way toward breaking this habit. I think she would do well with some agility training. We could both use it!
5. I'd like to have control over her barking. But then, this is a universal desire when it comes to most German Shepherd dogs. I don't mind if she barks once or twice when someone comes to the door, but I'd like her to stop when I tell her to. She barks so much when she is at the dog park, too. It's like she thinks it is part of the play process...maybe it is. Heck if I know. I have absolutely no idea how to stop the barking.
Almost ten years ago, my friend Patti (suburbanlife-patti) suggested that we really needed a dog. She suggested this many times. My response was always "No, no, no, I'm sure we don't need one of those. We have cats. I'm a cat person." Then came Ziggy, and my life changed. As I explained in an earlier post, we "rescued" him, and I figured he would probably be the only dog we ever had. It would be good for the then-not-so elusive offspring to have a dog. And the hub really needed a companion to go and do guy things with on weekends. But I really didn't think I needed a dog. I had my cats; they go so well with books and music and tea, right? Hah! I have discovered that you just gotta have both! Cats and dogs really DO go together. That's all there is to it!
I know this is another long post. I seem to do that. But it may be the last one for a while, because I'm going to have a very busy weekend. I'm taking a needlepoint workshop and probably won't even touch the computer during that time. Instead, I'm going to be turbo-stitching, trying to finish as much of the project as I can before the end of the weekend. If I figure out how to do it, I'll try to post a photo of the project. It's a really pretty design.
OK, so back to the conversation we had about how far Kira has come in the last three and a half weeks. Here are some mile stones.
1. She comes instantly when called. We can let her go off leash when we are in the back yard. I've also let her off leash in the unfenced park that all my neighbors use as a dog park. But I’m not quite ready to leave her off leash when we are far away from the house.
2. She is not a wild child any more. She no longer runs through the house between the front door and back door, barking madly. She is very calm with us and loves to stretch out on her bed in the living room when we are there. When we are outside, she doesn’t instigate other dogs into a frenzy like she did her two brothers at Karen’s house. She barks and plays, but she's not crazy and wild. Following Caesar's Way, we give her lots of affection when she is in a calm state of mind. And it’s a good thing that she is almost always calm now because it’s impossible to keep your hands off of her. She is an absolutely beautiful, loving dog, with silky fur that must be touched.
3. She doesn’t wolf-sing all night. She sings for about a minute before she sleeps at night. I like that, because her singing is very pretty,but I confess I don’t want to hear it all night. I got an e-mail from Karen who says that Kira always howled when she wanted to be in the same room with her. Kira does seem to be learning that, even if we are out of her sight, we are still her pack.
4. She does not get on the furniture. Well, we had one funny incident early on when H scared her by clapping his hands at naughty Wolfie (who was about to knock over the Easter cactus), and Kira flew onto the sofa next to me and curled up into a ball as small as Daily, all within two seconds time. I got her off the sofa and put her on her bed and she realized no one was mad at her. I really wonder what happened to Kira before Karen got her. There was another incident right before I went to Houston. I had gone upstairs to take a call from my sister. H was out of the room, too. I don't know what happened, but suddenly we heard a terrible racket and raced down stairs to see a frightening sight: one of my Tiffany-style lamps was moments away from hitting the hardwood floor. Kira was sitting nervously on her bed. The lamp was propped half against my sheet-covered loom and half against the sofa, barely holding on. Certain items (loom, piano) are still covered with sheets in the living room because we are not quite finished with the dining room rennovation project. Anyway, I have no idea how Kira managed to knock the lamp over, but I think she may have scared herself off the furniture for now. So I call this a milestone.
5. We can now brush her. The first time we tried to brush her, she got so nervous that she peed…thank goodness she was in the back yard at the time. NOT brushing her is not really an option because she has longer fur that must be groomed. At the same time, I don’t want to frighten her. So we have been very careful to use the soft side of the brush and at the same time use our free hand to stroke her. It's funny to see a big GSD so afraid of it, when my little Wolfie Devil-Cat will grab the brush in his two front paws and hold it in place so that he can rub his face all over it. If you even say the word "brush," Wolfie comes running. I do think Kira might actually like it now. She particularly loves to have her face stroked. I give her face massages. Again, I wonder what happened in her previous life before Karen. Did someone try to use her as a show dog in her early life? I understand that show dogs must constantly be brushed. And she is so boney that it must have hurt her. Anyway, I consider it a milestone that she now likes being brushed.
6. She does her business outside now, and this week, she has been very good about going in the morning and in the evening. We have not had any accidents for a week. I really expect her to figure out this aspect of life very quickly. She is an incredibly smart dog. And I don’t blame her for any of the accidents. Although I’m glad we have a tiled family room and kitchen, I think it has caused a bit of confusion for her. At Karen’s, she used the tiny townhouse back yard, which was entirely paved/bricked, and Karen said Kira didn't like to go while on a walk. So, we think she thought she was supposed to use the tiled area in the house. Thank goodness for this milestone.
7. We think we have broken her of the habit of getting up on her back legs to push open a door. It is frustrating that we now have scratches on two of the doors in the kitchen. They are not horrendous scratches, but it bothers us that the house has managed to go for a hundred years without dog scratches on the doors, until now. She still manages to push open the door from the kitchen to the family room to let the cats out (we close them into the family room while she eats because they REALLY like her food). I think she uses her nose to open the door now, because she's quiet about it.
8. It’s SO easy to clip her claws! She is such a princess! Technically, Karen accomplished this milestone with her, but I just wanted to include it in the great Kira accomplishments.
9. She is great with kids and adults, and other dogs. Where Ziggy was unbelievably dominant around other dogs, Kira is willing to be everybody’s friend and loves playing. She is intimidated by some dogs. Ziggy was completely fearless; no dog or person ever scared him. He was very confident, but not mean in the least. He was aloof, but willing to meet people. Kira is a total kid magnet. She loves the attention. I think that the elusive offspring is going to find her to be a “chick magnet” too, if he ever returns from his elusive university life.
10. She smiles now, that big smile that is so typical of German Shepherd dogs. And she does the puppy ears when I lean down to hug her. That is one of my all-time favorite things. I love to see those giant (and I mean GIANT) pointed ears go down over her neck like a puppy, and her big grin, with tongue hanging out. Damn, that’s sweet!
Things aren't all coming up roses just yet. Here are things we would like to accomplish with her:
1. We’d like to put some more weight on her. Ideally, at her height, she should weigh close to 80 pounds. She's only 58-60 pounds right now. We plan to take her in and weigh her soon, but we don't want to be disappointed again. It’s hard to get her to eat. It’s never the same any two meals in a row. No two breakfasts or dinners are the same. Karen suggested that we try using some low-fat peanut butter (apparently low fat is necessary because dogs don't do well with fat; they need protein). So, we will continue to be as patient as we can. I give her little bits of cheese and egg sometimes. And I have discovered some treats that she likes. She is such a spoiled little brat. What I'd REALLY like in the long run is to get her on the dry food exclusively. It's so much better for her teeth and regularity. The frustrating thing is that the cats are sneaking her food (even at the same time she is eating, which tells you how sweet she is with the cats), and the cats are getting fatter and Kira is still skinny!
2. We’d like to know for certain that she will do her business outside in the morning and at night before bedtime, so we can get her out of the crate. Karen said she would wake her at midnight or one in the morning to go outside. We’d like not to have that. I feel like we are making great headway on this issue. No more about bathroom habits, please.
3. She still wants to put her paws on us when we are seated. It’s cute, but it just ain’t right. For one thing, you don’t want muddy paw prints on your nice clothing. For another, it’s a form of “domination.” Also, she can scratch you accidentally. This is a very hard habit to break.
4. I’d like to completely break her of the habit of jumping up on us when we are standing. We are doing well with this by taking a step forward and bumping into her as she jumps up. It throws her off balance and she doesn't like that. We have gone a good way toward breaking this habit. I think she would do well with some agility training. We could both use it!
5. I'd like to have control over her barking. But then, this is a universal desire when it comes to most German Shepherd dogs. I don't mind if she barks once or twice when someone comes to the door, but I'd like her to stop when I tell her to. She barks so much when she is at the dog park, too. It's like she thinks it is part of the play process...maybe it is. Heck if I know. I have absolutely no idea how to stop the barking.
Almost ten years ago, my friend Patti (suburbanlife-patti) suggested that we really needed a dog. She suggested this many times. My response was always "No, no, no, I'm sure we don't need one of those. We have cats. I'm a cat person." Then came Ziggy, and my life changed. As I explained in an earlier post, we "rescued" him, and I figured he would probably be the only dog we ever had. It would be good for the then-not-so elusive offspring to have a dog. And the hub really needed a companion to go and do guy things with on weekends. But I really didn't think I needed a dog. I had my cats; they go so well with books and music and tea, right? Hah! I have discovered that you just gotta have both! Cats and dogs really DO go together. That's all there is to it!
I know this is another long post. I seem to do that. But it may be the last one for a while, because I'm going to have a very busy weekend. I'm taking a needlepoint workshop and probably won't even touch the computer during that time. Instead, I'm going to be turbo-stitching, trying to finish as much of the project as I can before the end of the weekend. If I figure out how to do it, I'll try to post a photo of the project. It's a really pretty design.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Spring in DC
Texas has some of the most beautiful and varied land in the country, all in one giant state. It takes a whole day to drive from the tip of the west end of the state to the east border. You have orchids in the Big Thicket and bluebonnets in the hills around Austin. There’s the Colorado River and the Davis Mountains. There’s the Rio Grande and Big Bend. The rugged land around San Angelo and the tropical land around Houston. Roses in Tyler. Cactus in Midland. Jackrabbits, windmills, oil, cattle, horses (yeah!), silicon technology (yes, even in Texas). Boots, don’t forget the boots! Pick-up trucks. Coors. I could go on. Texas is unique. I loved it when I lived there, and I love going back to visit.
So now that I have waxed poetic on Texas, let me tell you something about the area where I live. I drive home from work every day past the nation’s Capitol, down Constitution Avenue, past all the beautiful federal buildings, and the Washington Monument, and the White House. Last week, the cherry trees were bursting with pink blossoms that fall off the branches like snow. To the left, I pass the Viet Nam Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial (so gorgeous when viewed through cherry blossoms), and the Lincoln Memorial (sparkling white in the sunlight). To the right is the Kennedy Center and that infamous Watergate. Then I cross the Potomac River, and if I stay on Route 50 I pass the Iwo Jima Memorial on the left, and that is always quite a sight, crowded with tourists right now. But if I take the GW Memorial Parkway, I have the Potomac River to one side, with all the crew teams out on the water. And bald eagles! They are making a strong comeback. Sometimes they swoop down across the road in front of the car (scarey), and there is no mistaking that reddish body with the white head and tail feathers. We have red-tailed hawks here just as we do in Houston, and I've seen a couple of golden eagles when heading out Route 66 toward West Virginia. They are so much bigger than red-tailed hawks. And buzzards (yikes, they are HUGE). Cormorants, we have those, too. Some foxes hang out in the big park near us, deer, too. I have been taking this drive for more years than I want to admit, and I never, ever tire of it. I think I live in one of the most beautiful areas in the world.
After law school, we came to the area thinking we would have our “Washington year.” Every lawyer should have a “Washington year.” But we got Potomac fever and our “year” became “years.” Many years. We bought a house, our elusive offspring was born here and attended school here, and now lives his elusive university life in Scotland. I love this area as much as Texas. But when I go to LA to visit my friend Tracy, I love California, too! And New Mexico. And Wyoming. Connecticut. Maine. America the Beautiful.
That’s enough of that. I’m in a strange mood today. It’s spring and spring makes me giddy.
So now that I have waxed poetic on Texas, let me tell you something about the area where I live. I drive home from work every day past the nation’s Capitol, down Constitution Avenue, past all the beautiful federal buildings, and the Washington Monument, and the White House. Last week, the cherry trees were bursting with pink blossoms that fall off the branches like snow. To the left, I pass the Viet Nam Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial (so gorgeous when viewed through cherry blossoms), and the Lincoln Memorial (sparkling white in the sunlight). To the right is the Kennedy Center and that infamous Watergate. Then I cross the Potomac River, and if I stay on Route 50 I pass the Iwo Jima Memorial on the left, and that is always quite a sight, crowded with tourists right now. But if I take the GW Memorial Parkway, I have the Potomac River to one side, with all the crew teams out on the water. And bald eagles! They are making a strong comeback. Sometimes they swoop down across the road in front of the car (scarey), and there is no mistaking that reddish body with the white head and tail feathers. We have red-tailed hawks here just as we do in Houston, and I've seen a couple of golden eagles when heading out Route 66 toward West Virginia. They are so much bigger than red-tailed hawks. And buzzards (yikes, they are HUGE). Cormorants, we have those, too. Some foxes hang out in the big park near us, deer, too. I have been taking this drive for more years than I want to admit, and I never, ever tire of it. I think I live in one of the most beautiful areas in the world.
After law school, we came to the area thinking we would have our “Washington year.” Every lawyer should have a “Washington year.” But we got Potomac fever and our “year” became “years.” Many years. We bought a house, our elusive offspring was born here and attended school here, and now lives his elusive university life in Scotland. I love this area as much as Texas. But when I go to LA to visit my friend Tracy, I love California, too! And New Mexico. And Wyoming. Connecticut. Maine. America the Beautiful.
That’s enough of that. I’m in a strange mood today. It’s spring and spring makes me giddy.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Progress (Part I)
I mentioned before that Kira is a nurturer. For example, the first day I met her, she carefully licked some scratches on my wrist, and there was another time early on when she licked a neighbor’s broken thumb. Little Nurse Kira…please, I’m not being sexist…Little Doctor Kira just doesn’t work. Anyway, it turns out that she is also a bit of a champion for the little guy. Last night, the hub took her to the dog park while I went to a meeting, and of course she had a great time playing with all the other dogs. He told me that at one point there was a larger dog that got a little too rough and too dominant with a smaller dog, and the smaller one started yipping. Kira immediately went over and put her body between the two dogs to separate them. Apparently it was very obvious to the people in the park, because they commented on how she was protecting the little dog. I wish I had seen it! Little Officer Kira, the peace keeper.
Yet, the other day, she wasn’t quite the kind and loving creature we know her to be. She scared Daily into a hedgehog when she got a little rambunctious. He ran through the room and she reached out with her big paw to hold him down, and poor Daily instantly became twice his normal size, fur sticking out everywhere, and he shot upstairs like a rocket. He had to be coaxed back down to us. Of course, the next minute, both Kira and Daily were sitting next to each other at my feet so I could pet them both. I don’t want Kira to be jealous of Daily, but Daily is my best little buddy, my muse, my familiar (please don’t burn me at the stake). He doesn’t get to leave the house like Kira does, but he gets to climb on the bed with us and Kira doesn’t. Kira may only weigh 60 pounds, but she is huge. I think she is as tall as an Irish Wolfhound. I love her, but I don’t want her in bed with us.
We took her to the park again this evening, and she's really fun to watch. She barks a lot, but it's not aggressive. That's how she riled up her brothers at Karen's house, but it doesn't work the same at the park. I'm hoping she will figure that out and stop barking so much. Actually, she seemed to do it less as time went by. H noticed that her back legs seem to be getting stronger. And when you feel her shoulders, you can tell there is no real muscle on the bones. Boy. That makes me feel bad. We think getting her out of the crate as much as we can is building her muscles. I wish we could get her out of the crate permanently. It’s just taking time and patience. She is actually still attached to the thing, but little by little she is letting us know that she wants to stay out of it. I know that the crate is not a bad thing for dogs. I think it can be an excellent tool. But at the same time, I’d really like the family room and kitchen to be her “crate.”
She is so thin. It’s not like we starve her. We have given her every type of canned food known to man (and dog). We add cheese to her meals. We’ve given her egg yokes on top. I've given her rice. We even mixed some pats of butter in her food (yum, she loved that!). Like most German Shepherds, she loves cheese. Ziggy would have done anything for cheese…he was the ultimate cheesehound. I hope more than anything that we see weight gain the next time we put her on the scale. We were so distressed when we found out she weighed 58 pounds last time we took her in. What to do!
I'm hoping that the more we take her out to play and exercise, the hungrier she will get. I don't like having to explain to people that we are not starving her. This morning, I stayed in the kitchen and encouraged her to eat. When she finished the bowl, I told her what a good girl she was. But she has not eaten her entire dinner tonight. We will be patient. I think she will eat it, but it will probably take all evening.
I love this dog. She is similar to Ziggy, and diffrent from Ziggy. She has not replaced Ziggy, but she has filled the hole. I'm glad that, while I was in Houston, she bonded with H. As time goes by, she seems to understand that this is it: we are her pack now. I think I'll send Karen an e-mail giving her an update on Kira's progress.
Yet, the other day, she wasn’t quite the kind and loving creature we know her to be. She scared Daily into a hedgehog when she got a little rambunctious. He ran through the room and she reached out with her big paw to hold him down, and poor Daily instantly became twice his normal size, fur sticking out everywhere, and he shot upstairs like a rocket. He had to be coaxed back down to us. Of course, the next minute, both Kira and Daily were sitting next to each other at my feet so I could pet them both. I don’t want Kira to be jealous of Daily, but Daily is my best little buddy, my muse, my familiar (please don’t burn me at the stake). He doesn’t get to leave the house like Kira does, but he gets to climb on the bed with us and Kira doesn’t. Kira may only weigh 60 pounds, but she is huge. I think she is as tall as an Irish Wolfhound. I love her, but I don’t want her in bed with us.
We took her to the park again this evening, and she's really fun to watch. She barks a lot, but it's not aggressive. That's how she riled up her brothers at Karen's house, but it doesn't work the same at the park. I'm hoping she will figure that out and stop barking so much. Actually, she seemed to do it less as time went by. H noticed that her back legs seem to be getting stronger. And when you feel her shoulders, you can tell there is no real muscle on the bones. Boy. That makes me feel bad. We think getting her out of the crate as much as we can is building her muscles. I wish we could get her out of the crate permanently. It’s just taking time and patience. She is actually still attached to the thing, but little by little she is letting us know that she wants to stay out of it. I know that the crate is not a bad thing for dogs. I think it can be an excellent tool. But at the same time, I’d really like the family room and kitchen to be her “crate.”
She is so thin. It’s not like we starve her. We have given her every type of canned food known to man (and dog). We add cheese to her meals. We’ve given her egg yokes on top. I've given her rice. We even mixed some pats of butter in her food (yum, she loved that!). Like most German Shepherds, she loves cheese. Ziggy would have done anything for cheese…he was the ultimate cheesehound. I hope more than anything that we see weight gain the next time we put her on the scale. We were so distressed when we found out she weighed 58 pounds last time we took her in. What to do!
I'm hoping that the more we take her out to play and exercise, the hungrier she will get. I don't like having to explain to people that we are not starving her. This morning, I stayed in the kitchen and encouraged her to eat. When she finished the bowl, I told her what a good girl she was. But she has not eaten her entire dinner tonight. We will be patient. I think she will eat it, but it will probably take all evening.
I love this dog. She is similar to Ziggy, and diffrent from Ziggy. She has not replaced Ziggy, but she has filled the hole. I'm glad that, while I was in Houston, she bonded with H. As time goes by, she seems to understand that this is it: we are her pack now. I think I'll send Karen an e-mail giving her an update on Kira's progress.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Home again
I just got back from a trip to Houston, where we celebrated my Mom's 80th birthday. It was in the 70s and 80s every day, with none of the usual Houston humidity. It was absolutely beautiful weather, and the bluebonnets were out everywhere. Landing at Houston Intercontinental is so easy...the runways are very long. You get to spend a lot of time looking out of the window at the ground. Flying over Lake Houston. Checking out all the new construction in Kingwood. Wondering if that big area really IS Humble. And then you seem to hover over the runway forever before touching down. It is very unlike National Airport, where the runways are the shortest in the country. I can't begin to count the number of rough landings I have experienced at National, and then the intercom comes on and you can hear the laughter in the cockpit as the captain says "welcome to the nation's Capitol from your all-Houston crew," as if the fact they are not from DC explains WHY the landing was so rough. Well, they need not worry. It doesn't matter where the crew hails from...landings at National are simply rough. It's the nature of the airport. And, actually, I don't really mind. I love taking-off and landing.
OK, OK, more information than I needed to share. So, I spent the first part of my trip with my sister... I still don't know how to add a URL address but she's that Girl From Texas. We had a great time, getting a mani-pedi, watching movies (I'm too embarassed to write just how many we watched), stitching, eating out, shopping. She has a cockatoo named Muzetta, named after the character in La Boheme (yes, La Boheme is both my sister's and my favorite opera). This bird is funny. My sister's phone rings and Muzetta says "hello?" If she hears us laughing, she imitates us. You can watch her pretending she is doing the things that we are doing. She bobs her head, flips up the feathers on her head, ruffles her tail...well, um, maybe she's not really imitating us, because we don't have feathers on our heads... she's cute.
But Muzetta hates me. She wants to bite me. Me! I'm the one who plays the Cong game with her (she tosses the Cong and I retrieve it, of course). I'm the one who talks to her: she says "mumble mumble good bird?" and I say "No you are not a good bird." And I whistle at her. But I think she hates me because my sister and I sound so much alike that it confuses her. Or maybe she just doesn't like my red hair. Every time I walked by her cage when she was outside of it, she would lean out as far as she could with her beak opened, ready to bite me if she could only reach me (her wings are clipped, so she can't fly to me). And then, she pretends to be biting me. Seriously! She hits her beak against the floor or the bar four or five times in succession and then looks at me as if to say "that could be you." Sheesh! She hates me.
Then my brother comes over and get this. Muzetta does her little raptor walk to him, works her way up his leg (luckily he wears jeans), using her beak and claws, works her way up his shirt to his chest, then puts her head down on his chest, all lovey-dovey! What's that all about! (Ok, never mind, I know, he's a guy and she's a girl) But HE doesn't play the Cong game with her. He doesn't talk to her or whistle at her. He just looks at her. She loves him.
OK, so my sister has a tiny Himalayan cat named Mimi (yes, also after the character in La Boheme). But Mimi hates me, too! Well, I think she hates everyone. You have to imagine this tiny cat (maybe 7 pounds?), shaved in a plushy "lion cut" and with a puff of dark fur on the tip of her tail, and an attitude the size of a 700-pound tiger! If you walk past her, she hisses at you. If you stand near her, she hisses at you. If you LOOK at her from across the room, she hisses at you. The funny thing about Mimi is that she also gets confused between me and my sister! She forgets that I'm me and not my sister. She comes up to me and rubs against my leg, then looks up and realizes her mistake, and growls at me and swipes at my leg, as if it's MY fault. Sheesh! Mimi hates me.
Lest you think all of my sister's animals are psychotic, she has one other little cat, a Persian named Seamus ... Seamus Heany MacCool, to be precise. She named him partially after the Irish poet and partially after the Irish folk hero Fionn McCoul, but changed the spelling to make him unique. Seamus loves me. He makes up for those other two. He is such a love bug! He does this thing...well, I have to call it a Love Attack, and it goes like this: I was sleeping, or trying to sleep, when something soft and furry launched itself at my neck. It was Seamus...but he was not trying to kill me...at least I don't THINK he was trying to kill me. He just flopped across my neck and squirmed until he was a close as he could get under my chin, and then he rested his head on my face, half burying my eyes and nose, purring like crazy and patting my face with his soft feet. And he does the squinchy eye thing, kitty kisses. He adores my sister. When she works on the computer, he carefully places himself in a position across her arms. He likes to cover whatever papers she is currently working on. Anyway, that's Seamus. Enough about my sister's animals.
On Friday, we met my two brothers at Starbuck's in Kingwood. Mom didn't know we were coming. So when we walked into her house, all she could do was stare at us with her mouth open. She was so funny! She almost cried...or maybe she did. I was so focused on her hand. "Is that meat you're holding in your fist?" I asked. "Yes," she answers as she hugs my younger brother, "I was hungry." My younger brother says "Oh, good, that's good to know. I wondered what was going to be on the back of my shirt." So, the rest of the day, we teased Mom about her "fist meat." We checked to make sure she had plenty of "fist meat" in her fridge.
This came up again the next morning when we awoke to hot air blowing down on us from the vents. 70-something degrees outside and she had the heater on! A house full of people, and she had the heater on. Everyone was sitting around, very hot and uncomfortable, trying to figure out what to do. So I say: "Mom, did you run out of fist meat?" "What?" she says. I ask: "Are you planning to have Offspring Stew for lunch?" "What?" she says. I try to elucidate further: "Well, Mom, you're cooking your kids and I wondered why." At which point, she allowed that it was probably too warm in the house and we should turn off the heater. I brought her a sweater.
For her birthday, I got her a set of three cordless-phones. I got it all set up and taught her how to answer the phone. She wanted to hear how the message machine would sound, so my younger brother called her from the cell phone. There we are, all standing around the kitchen watching my younger brother on his cell phone and my mom holding the cordless phone, but not answering it. Then the message machine beeps and my brother starts this plaintive cry in an almost-Elvis-like voice: "Answer the phone, Mama! Please, Mama! Answer the phone! Mama, I'm begging you!" And my mom stands there with the phone in her hand, watching us all laugh at my pitiful weeping brother. "Mama, please, answer the phone! Don't just stand there looking at it, Mama, answer it, please! It's me! Ple-he-he-hease! Don't leave me here, waiting!" Finally, she presses the answer button, and my brother says in his sweetest voice, "Happy Birthday, Mama, happy birthday." Periodically throughout the day, we played that message and laughed every time as if it was the first. Yes, my little brother is very funny, and very charming.
The best part of the whole trip was the Monopoly game between the brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces. It was a noisy and rowdy game, where a bunch of 20-somethings, and 40-somethings, and 50-somethings acted like school children. This game went on for several hours, during which time we broke for dinner at Outback Steakhouse. For a time, we were kids again. I looked around at my siblings and their kids and my mom, and it hit me that it was much like the birthday celebration my husband's family threw for me in 1993, when my father was still alive. Almost all of us were there, my family and my husband's family, and I remember thinking that it was a day I would remember forever. It was one of those rare occasions where everyone was together, having a great time. Little did I know then that my father would be gone in a year. There is a wonderful saying "Live each day as if it were your last, live each day as if it were your first."
Well, this is enough for one day. By the way, Kira was very happy when I got home. She was so satisfied, having her pack together again. But Daily was even happier...he would not let me out of his sight. When I woke this morning, he was curled up in my arm, purring like crazy. I love that funny little cat.
OK, OK, more information than I needed to share. So, I spent the first part of my trip with my sister... I still don't know how to add a URL address but she's that Girl From Texas. We had a great time, getting a mani-pedi, watching movies (I'm too embarassed to write just how many we watched), stitching, eating out, shopping. She has a cockatoo named Muzetta, named after the character in La Boheme (yes, La Boheme is both my sister's and my favorite opera). This bird is funny. My sister's phone rings and Muzetta says "hello?" If she hears us laughing, she imitates us. You can watch her pretending she is doing the things that we are doing. She bobs her head, flips up the feathers on her head, ruffles her tail...well, um, maybe she's not really imitating us, because we don't have feathers on our heads... she's cute.
But Muzetta hates me. She wants to bite me. Me! I'm the one who plays the Cong game with her (she tosses the Cong and I retrieve it, of course). I'm the one who talks to her: she says "mumble mumble good bird?" and I say "No you are not a good bird." And I whistle at her. But I think she hates me because my sister and I sound so much alike that it confuses her. Or maybe she just doesn't like my red hair. Every time I walked by her cage when she was outside of it, she would lean out as far as she could with her beak opened, ready to bite me if she could only reach me (her wings are clipped, so she can't fly to me). And then, she pretends to be biting me. Seriously! She hits her beak against the floor or the bar four or five times in succession and then looks at me as if to say "that could be you." Sheesh! She hates me.
Then my brother comes over and get this. Muzetta does her little raptor walk to him, works her way up his leg (luckily he wears jeans), using her beak and claws, works her way up his shirt to his chest, then puts her head down on his chest, all lovey-dovey! What's that all about! (Ok, never mind, I know, he's a guy and she's a girl) But HE doesn't play the Cong game with her. He doesn't talk to her or whistle at her. He just looks at her. She loves him.
OK, so my sister has a tiny Himalayan cat named Mimi (yes, also after the character in La Boheme). But Mimi hates me, too! Well, I think she hates everyone. You have to imagine this tiny cat (maybe 7 pounds?), shaved in a plushy "lion cut" and with a puff of dark fur on the tip of her tail, and an attitude the size of a 700-pound tiger! If you walk past her, she hisses at you. If you stand near her, she hisses at you. If you LOOK at her from across the room, she hisses at you. The funny thing about Mimi is that she also gets confused between me and my sister! She forgets that I'm me and not my sister. She comes up to me and rubs against my leg, then looks up and realizes her mistake, and growls at me and swipes at my leg, as if it's MY fault. Sheesh! Mimi hates me.
Lest you think all of my sister's animals are psychotic, she has one other little cat, a Persian named Seamus ... Seamus Heany MacCool, to be precise. She named him partially after the Irish poet and partially after the Irish folk hero Fionn McCoul, but changed the spelling to make him unique. Seamus loves me. He makes up for those other two. He is such a love bug! He does this thing...well, I have to call it a Love Attack, and it goes like this: I was sleeping, or trying to sleep, when something soft and furry launched itself at my neck. It was Seamus...but he was not trying to kill me...at least I don't THINK he was trying to kill me. He just flopped across my neck and squirmed until he was a close as he could get under my chin, and then he rested his head on my face, half burying my eyes and nose, purring like crazy and patting my face with his soft feet. And he does the squinchy eye thing, kitty kisses. He adores my sister. When she works on the computer, he carefully places himself in a position across her arms. He likes to cover whatever papers she is currently working on. Anyway, that's Seamus. Enough about my sister's animals.
On Friday, we met my two brothers at Starbuck's in Kingwood. Mom didn't know we were coming. So when we walked into her house, all she could do was stare at us with her mouth open. She was so funny! She almost cried...or maybe she did. I was so focused on her hand. "Is that meat you're holding in your fist?" I asked. "Yes," she answers as she hugs my younger brother, "I was hungry." My younger brother says "Oh, good, that's good to know. I wondered what was going to be on the back of my shirt." So, the rest of the day, we teased Mom about her "fist meat." We checked to make sure she had plenty of "fist meat" in her fridge.
This came up again the next morning when we awoke to hot air blowing down on us from the vents. 70-something degrees outside and she had the heater on! A house full of people, and she had the heater on. Everyone was sitting around, very hot and uncomfortable, trying to figure out what to do. So I say: "Mom, did you run out of fist meat?" "What?" she says. I ask: "Are you planning to have Offspring Stew for lunch?" "What?" she says. I try to elucidate further: "Well, Mom, you're cooking your kids and I wondered why." At which point, she allowed that it was probably too warm in the house and we should turn off the heater. I brought her a sweater.
For her birthday, I got her a set of three cordless-phones. I got it all set up and taught her how to answer the phone. She wanted to hear how the message machine would sound, so my younger brother called her from the cell phone. There we are, all standing around the kitchen watching my younger brother on his cell phone and my mom holding the cordless phone, but not answering it. Then the message machine beeps and my brother starts this plaintive cry in an almost-Elvis-like voice: "Answer the phone, Mama! Please, Mama! Answer the phone! Mama, I'm begging you!" And my mom stands there with the phone in her hand, watching us all laugh at my pitiful weeping brother. "Mama, please, answer the phone! Don't just stand there looking at it, Mama, answer it, please! It's me! Ple-he-he-hease! Don't leave me here, waiting!" Finally, she presses the answer button, and my brother says in his sweetest voice, "Happy Birthday, Mama, happy birthday." Periodically throughout the day, we played that message and laughed every time as if it was the first. Yes, my little brother is very funny, and very charming.
The best part of the whole trip was the Monopoly game between the brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces. It was a noisy and rowdy game, where a bunch of 20-somethings, and 40-somethings, and 50-somethings acted like school children. This game went on for several hours, during which time we broke for dinner at Outback Steakhouse. For a time, we were kids again. I looked around at my siblings and their kids and my mom, and it hit me that it was much like the birthday celebration my husband's family threw for me in 1993, when my father was still alive. Almost all of us were there, my family and my husband's family, and I remember thinking that it was a day I would remember forever. It was one of those rare occasions where everyone was together, having a great time. Little did I know then that my father would be gone in a year. There is a wonderful saying "Live each day as if it were your last, live each day as if it were your first."
Well, this is enough for one day. By the way, Kira was very happy when I got home. She was so satisfied, having her pack together again. But Daily was even happier...he would not let me out of his sight. When I woke this morning, he was curled up in my arm, purring like crazy. I love that funny little cat.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
My Clever Husband
Kira has had quite a few issues we've been trying to resolve. We have worked out the most major ones, and as a result some of the smaller ones worked themselves out. For example, her freneticism is gone, replaced by a very responsive and relaxed dog ....WHEN we are home and physically with her. She absolutely loves to be with us. And we love to have her with us. She is very social with other dogs, and does not rile them up. She plays very nicely. She walks on leash beautifully. And she comes immediately when called.
She does, however, still wolf-howl when separated from us. She is still in her crate...and not because I want her there. I'd love for her to be OUT of the crate. But she puts herself into it, which tells me she is comfortable there. Also, one of the other issues is that she still has problems pooping appropriately. That means: outside. We have had several accidents since we got her (thank goodness for tile floors). But we are being very diligent and reading the signals very well. I think we will have that issue resolved within the week.
As for the howling, it is something we need to clear up. Although we think it is really rather a sweet and pretty sound, guests might not agree with us. Neighbors might not agree with us. And I think it's a symptom that she is "off-balance" to use Caesar's term.
OK, so here is what the clever hub did. We have a set of portable monitor/intercoms that we used when EO was a teenager. We don't really use them any more. When you want to talk to someone, there is a button you push that makes a beep, or a prolonged tone if you hold it down. The volume control can make that beep really loud. So two nights ago, H put one of the monitors on top of Kira's crate and the other one next to our bed. When we put Kira in her crate (or she put herself in her crate), and we turned out all the lights and went to bed, she started her singing. As soon as she started, H pressed the beep button. He did this every time she howled. She is not stupid. She figured out very quickly that the beep happened when she howled. Within ten minutes, she was quiet, and we had a wonderfully restful sleep Thursday night. Last night, we did the same thing. I think it took less time for her to settle down.
Here's the interesting thing. We are not so sure that it is necessarily sound avoidance training. Sure, she knows that the sound goes away when she stops howling. But we actually think there is a certain amount of comfort to her. This is a strange thing, but we think she sings herself into a sleep mode, and the beeping speeds up the process.
Why do wolves howl? I did a little research, and there's a whole wolf psychology to the howl, which I won't get into here. The pack howls together. They also howl when they get separated, and they wait for a responsive howl. Maybe the beeping is the equivalent of another wolf responding to her. And maybe, just maybe, that is all she needs. Of course, we have only done this two nights. That's not enough to make any of these broad conclusions. Yet, I suspect that our success will continue and she will eventually stop wolf-howling every night. She just needs reassurance that we are her pack and will always be her pack. She needs to know that we always come home to her.
That wolf howl thing is positively primal...to every living creature, including domestic housecats. For example, when I was doing my research, I listened to a few examples on the internet. Poor Daily went nuts! He kept looking out the window, breathing rapidly, and then toward the stairs with huge eyes, finally leaping off the desk to check downstairs. Even ten minutes after I had played the wolf howl, Daily was slinking around the house, looking for the singer. Remember, this is Daily, the cat who never met a dog he didn't like. Wolves must be a different matter. Of course, he WAS practically feral once once upon a time (a story for another time). He would know the dangers. Anyway, it's been a little while since I did that wolf research, and Daily's little kitty psyche is still messed up. Amusing as he is, I feel bad about rocking his foundation. He always felt safe in this house. I hope he feels better soon. Poor little thing. Not! He's the toughest little cat I have ever met. He just happens to know the difference between dog and wolf. And even though many humans think Kira looks like a Wolf, Daily knows the difference. He's fine.
OK, so I'm off to see the Met's simulcast of La Boheme ... fun!
She does, however, still wolf-howl when separated from us. She is still in her crate...and not because I want her there. I'd love for her to be OUT of the crate. But she puts herself into it, which tells me she is comfortable there. Also, one of the other issues is that she still has problems pooping appropriately. That means: outside. We have had several accidents since we got her (thank goodness for tile floors). But we are being very diligent and reading the signals very well. I think we will have that issue resolved within the week.
As for the howling, it is something we need to clear up. Although we think it is really rather a sweet and pretty sound, guests might not agree with us. Neighbors might not agree with us. And I think it's a symptom that she is "off-balance" to use Caesar's term.
OK, so here is what the clever hub did. We have a set of portable monitor/intercoms that we used when EO was a teenager. We don't really use them any more. When you want to talk to someone, there is a button you push that makes a beep, or a prolonged tone if you hold it down. The volume control can make that beep really loud. So two nights ago, H put one of the monitors on top of Kira's crate and the other one next to our bed. When we put Kira in her crate (or she put herself in her crate), and we turned out all the lights and went to bed, she started her singing. As soon as she started, H pressed the beep button. He did this every time she howled. She is not stupid. She figured out very quickly that the beep happened when she howled. Within ten minutes, she was quiet, and we had a wonderfully restful sleep Thursday night. Last night, we did the same thing. I think it took less time for her to settle down.
Here's the interesting thing. We are not so sure that it is necessarily sound avoidance training. Sure, she knows that the sound goes away when she stops howling. But we actually think there is a certain amount of comfort to her. This is a strange thing, but we think she sings herself into a sleep mode, and the beeping speeds up the process.
Why do wolves howl? I did a little research, and there's a whole wolf psychology to the howl, which I won't get into here. The pack howls together. They also howl when they get separated, and they wait for a responsive howl. Maybe the beeping is the equivalent of another wolf responding to her. And maybe, just maybe, that is all she needs. Of course, we have only done this two nights. That's not enough to make any of these broad conclusions. Yet, I suspect that our success will continue and she will eventually stop wolf-howling every night. She just needs reassurance that we are her pack and will always be her pack. She needs to know that we always come home to her.
That wolf howl thing is positively primal...to every living creature, including domestic housecats. For example, when I was doing my research, I listened to a few examples on the internet. Poor Daily went nuts! He kept looking out the window, breathing rapidly, and then toward the stairs with huge eyes, finally leaping off the desk to check downstairs. Even ten minutes after I had played the wolf howl, Daily was slinking around the house, looking for the singer. Remember, this is Daily, the cat who never met a dog he didn't like. Wolves must be a different matter. Of course, he WAS practically feral once once upon a time (a story for another time). He would know the dangers. Anyway, it's been a little while since I did that wolf research, and Daily's little kitty psyche is still messed up. Amusing as he is, I feel bad about rocking his foundation. He always felt safe in this house. I hope he feels better soon. Poor little thing. Not! He's the toughest little cat I have ever met. He just happens to know the difference between dog and wolf. And even though many humans think Kira looks like a Wolf, Daily knows the difference. He's fine.
OK, so I'm off to see the Met's simulcast of La Boheme ... fun!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Skinny Kira, protective Kira
Kira met our vet last night. We are a little concerned about how thin she is. When Karen took her to the vet at the beginning of March in preparation for adopting her out, Kira weighed in at 60 pounds and we knew this was too thin for a dog her size. We have been trying to put weight on her. For some reason, we thought we had succeeded in putting a couple of pounds on her during the week and a half since we got her.
But we could not have been more wrong! Last night, even after eating, she weighed 58 lb! OMG, we were shocked. We have been following the regime Karen set up: half kibbles, half canned food both morning and night for a total of 3 1/2 cups of food. She never eats the entire morning meal, and it takes her a while to get through the evening meal, so I don't think she is going hungry. Although we prefer to feed her dry food only (because, among other benefits, it keeps her teeth cleaner), we asked the vet if we should give her MORE canned food to try to beef her up a bit. He liked that idea and said we should try a whole can of food at night and a half a can in the morning along with kibbles. He wants us to try to get another ten pounds on her, at least, and says that fifteen pounds would look even better. A review of her earlier vet records (Karen gave a copy to us when we got Kira) shows that she had a tapeworm when Karen got her. Because I had forgotten to bring the fecal sample, he suggested that we go ahead and give her a round of worming treatment just to be safe. Tonight, we took the sample in.
Tonight, I put a whole can of food on her kibbles, along with the worm treatment. She ate it, but very slowly, over a span of about an hour and a half. She'd go in and take a delicate ladylike bite and come back out to us, go in and lick the fluid and come back out to us, and this continued for a while until only four or five kibbles were left, and the cats finished those off in short order. We've stopped giving the cats their midnight snacks because they have been getting some of Kira's leftovers. AND they think nothing of sticking their heads into Kira's bowl WHILE she is eating!!! We have to lock them away until she finishes her meal. I have so many stories about my hedonistic cats, but I'll try to fit them into the dog stories as best I can, because, after all, this is intended to be a dog blog, not a cat blog. But, I have to warn you, I really cannot resist telling stories about the cats. They are very funny cats. Especially Daily. Ok, that comes later on. Back to Kira.
She really is SUCH a princess. When she met our neighbor's 120 pound Malamute for the first time, and he came around to do the usual tail sniffing thing, she just sat her little boney butt down on the ground. "No, no, we're not having any of that," was her attitude.
This evening, when I got home from work and we went out for a good walk, we went down to the little wooded park at the end of the street and met several neighbors and their dogs and kids. All the dogs were off leash, playing with balls and frisbees and running around like children. As Kira and I came up, everyone quickly pulled their dogs in. Let me put it the way H puts it: if a 150-pound Golden Retriever comes bounding up off leash, people say "Awww, isn't it cute?" but when a 60-pound German Shepherd comes into the crowd ON leash, some people say "Oh my God an attack dog."
Now I know that GSDs are often used for guarding (there is the Schutzhund aspect, of course, with the attack training, which I would never have for a family dog), and there is the association of the police dog. Those things might cause people to be frightened. But people who are most afraid of GSDs are people who don't know dogs at all, and my personal feeling is that GSDs look so much like wolves that those people's race memory and caveman instinct takes over, and that's where the automatic fear comes from. That's what I believe, anyway, that it is a fear born of instinct even more than association with police dogs and guard dogs.
OK, so I digress. Back to the story of tonight. As Kira and I came up to the group of doggy people with their dogs suddenly kept close, both of us were smiling (yes, Kira has a lovely smile). One of the ladies starts to realize that there is no aggression in Kira, and she asks: "Is she friendly?" "She's amazingly friendly," I responded, and everyone came over to Ooooo and Aaaaa over her. "Oh, she's so pretty." "She's so sweet." "She's so soft." "She's so good." Before you know it, all the dogs are off leash again, and Kira is right out there with everyone. She had so much fun! She ran all over the place, trying to herd a short black dog (no one knows what it is!), but the little dog could turn tighter than she could, and she got lots of exercise trying the round everyone up into a circle. You know the German Shepherd thing: first I put everyone in a circle and then I guard the perimeter. But she certainly had fun trying! Then Cocoa was playing with her frisbee and Kira interfered and got taught a good lesson for it. Lots of snarling and snapping, and Kira was mortified! As I said, she is a princess and apparently is not used to such treatment. After all, she was the boss at her old house. Karen's other two dogs (German Shepherd mixes, both rescue dogs) did as Kira instructed. She could rile them up with a bark. But this new world is totally different for her. I don't think she has ever had so much exercise! I keep hoping it makes her hungry.
She did something very interesting at the beginning of the walk. I started to go into the park at the extreme end of the path, a very secluded area. It was quite light, and I was very comfortable going that way. But as I started down the path, Kira began to bump her head against my thigh. When I didn't stop, she moved in front of me and stopped my progress, the way seeing eye dogs do. I thought it was an odd behavior, but I went around her and kept going. Then she started leaping up onto her hind legs in front of me and hitting me with her shoulder. This time, I stopped and thought "Well, I'm not going to fight this." Obviously she didn't want to go that way. So I turned around and went into the park at a different location, and that's where all the people were. I don't know why she didn't want to go that other way, but I was not going to question her. I think there is at least one homeless person living in a dense area of the park...not that homeless people are per se dangerous. Last year, Ziggy flushed a guy out and actually growled at him (we know of only two times that Ziggy growled at a person and that was one of the times). There have been a couple of attacks on women in this park, but they were quite a few years ago and in the dark. Did Kira know something? Or did she just not like going that way because of the sound of traffic on the other side of the wall? Of course, I'll never know what it was, because I didn't go against her instincts. What really surprised me is that H said she did the same basic thing to him last night in the same area. She does not like that entrance for some reason. We won't go that way. I think I'll trust her.
But we could not have been more wrong! Last night, even after eating, she weighed 58 lb! OMG, we were shocked. We have been following the regime Karen set up: half kibbles, half canned food both morning and night for a total of 3 1/2 cups of food. She never eats the entire morning meal, and it takes her a while to get through the evening meal, so I don't think she is going hungry. Although we prefer to feed her dry food only (because, among other benefits, it keeps her teeth cleaner), we asked the vet if we should give her MORE canned food to try to beef her up a bit. He liked that idea and said we should try a whole can of food at night and a half a can in the morning along with kibbles. He wants us to try to get another ten pounds on her, at least, and says that fifteen pounds would look even better. A review of her earlier vet records (Karen gave a copy to us when we got Kira) shows that she had a tapeworm when Karen got her. Because I had forgotten to bring the fecal sample, he suggested that we go ahead and give her a round of worming treatment just to be safe. Tonight, we took the sample in.
Tonight, I put a whole can of food on her kibbles, along with the worm treatment. She ate it, but very slowly, over a span of about an hour and a half. She'd go in and take a delicate ladylike bite and come back out to us, go in and lick the fluid and come back out to us, and this continued for a while until only four or five kibbles were left, and the cats finished those off in short order. We've stopped giving the cats their midnight snacks because they have been getting some of Kira's leftovers. AND they think nothing of sticking their heads into Kira's bowl WHILE she is eating!!! We have to lock them away until she finishes her meal. I have so many stories about my hedonistic cats, but I'll try to fit them into the dog stories as best I can, because, after all, this is intended to be a dog blog, not a cat blog. But, I have to warn you, I really cannot resist telling stories about the cats. They are very funny cats. Especially Daily. Ok, that comes later on. Back to Kira.
She really is SUCH a princess. When she met our neighbor's 120 pound Malamute for the first time, and he came around to do the usual tail sniffing thing, she just sat her little boney butt down on the ground. "No, no, we're not having any of that," was her attitude.
This evening, when I got home from work and we went out for a good walk, we went down to the little wooded park at the end of the street and met several neighbors and their dogs and kids. All the dogs were off leash, playing with balls and frisbees and running around like children. As Kira and I came up, everyone quickly pulled their dogs in. Let me put it the way H puts it: if a 150-pound Golden Retriever comes bounding up off leash, people say "Awww, isn't it cute?" but when a 60-pound German Shepherd comes into the crowd ON leash, some people say "Oh my God an attack dog."
Now I know that GSDs are often used for guarding (there is the Schutzhund aspect, of course, with the attack training, which I would never have for a family dog), and there is the association of the police dog. Those things might cause people to be frightened. But people who are most afraid of GSDs are people who don't know dogs at all, and my personal feeling is that GSDs look so much like wolves that those people's race memory and caveman instinct takes over, and that's where the automatic fear comes from. That's what I believe, anyway, that it is a fear born of instinct even more than association with police dogs and guard dogs.
OK, so I digress. Back to the story of tonight. As Kira and I came up to the group of doggy people with their dogs suddenly kept close, both of us were smiling (yes, Kira has a lovely smile). One of the ladies starts to realize that there is no aggression in Kira, and she asks: "Is she friendly?" "She's amazingly friendly," I responded, and everyone came over to Ooooo and Aaaaa over her. "Oh, she's so pretty." "She's so sweet." "She's so soft." "She's so good." Before you know it, all the dogs are off leash again, and Kira is right out there with everyone. She had so much fun! She ran all over the place, trying to herd a short black dog (no one knows what it is!), but the little dog could turn tighter than she could, and she got lots of exercise trying the round everyone up into a circle. You know the German Shepherd thing: first I put everyone in a circle and then I guard the perimeter. But she certainly had fun trying! Then Cocoa was playing with her frisbee and Kira interfered and got taught a good lesson for it. Lots of snarling and snapping, and Kira was mortified! As I said, she is a princess and apparently is not used to such treatment. After all, she was the boss at her old house. Karen's other two dogs (German Shepherd mixes, both rescue dogs) did as Kira instructed. She could rile them up with a bark. But this new world is totally different for her. I don't think she has ever had so much exercise! I keep hoping it makes her hungry.
She did something very interesting at the beginning of the walk. I started to go into the park at the extreme end of the path, a very secluded area. It was quite light, and I was very comfortable going that way. But as I started down the path, Kira began to bump her head against my thigh. When I didn't stop, she moved in front of me and stopped my progress, the way seeing eye dogs do. I thought it was an odd behavior, but I went around her and kept going. Then she started leaping up onto her hind legs in front of me and hitting me with her shoulder. This time, I stopped and thought "Well, I'm not going to fight this." Obviously she didn't want to go that way. So I turned around and went into the park at a different location, and that's where all the people were. I don't know why she didn't want to go that other way, but I was not going to question her. I think there is at least one homeless person living in a dense area of the park...not that homeless people are per se dangerous. Last year, Ziggy flushed a guy out and actually growled at him (we know of only two times that Ziggy growled at a person and that was one of the times). There have been a couple of attacks on women in this park, but they were quite a few years ago and in the dark. Did Kira know something? Or did she just not like going that way because of the sound of traffic on the other side of the wall? Of course, I'll never know what it was, because I didn't go against her instincts. What really surprised me is that H said she did the same basic thing to him last night in the same area. She does not like that entrance for some reason. We won't go that way. I think I'll trust her.
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