On This Day In History...

November 4 is an important day in the history of our family.  The fact that two important things in our life on the same date, a year apart, made me ponder some things.  It really gave me the sense that things in life really do come full circle.

A year ago today, we had to say good-bye to Hawk.  His body just couldn't keep going.  We had been in for some tests with him about a week before, and I recall that throughout Halloween night, he slept through the hustle and bustle of trick or treaters coming to the door.  I really thought that he'd bounce back, but we had to let him go even before we found out the results of the tests that were done.  In my heart, I know that even if we'd gotten those results, it still would have been time for him to go.  It was the end of an era for us.  Hawk and Treat were our first Greyhounds and they signified the beginning of our life together and our lives as adults with dogs.  Hawk stayed around long enough to make sure that Bunny was trained in the mysterious way that he and Treat carried themselves, I believe, and having completed those lessons, he moved on to be with Treat.

Two years ago today, a German Shepherd puppy was born.  She's turning out to be a funny, curious and sensitive companion who keeps us on our toes.  Sharing life with a Shepherd isn't like sharing life with a Greyhound, but it has its own rewards.  After Hawk passed away, our plan was to stay at three dogs, and then after Lilac passed, we'd go down to two, which was what we'd really planned to be at anyway.  Life takes turns we don't expect, though, and here Morgan is with us in a four dog household again. 

I have a feeling Hawk is happy with his successor.  Morgan has some of the same traits that Hawk had.  She likes to have everyone stay together, just like he did.  He didn't do head counts like Morgan does, but I'm sure that if he'd seen it in action, he'd heartily approve.  Hawk was always protective of Treat and me.  Morgan considers herself Bunny's personal body guard at the dog park, and she always has to know where I am, too.  Hawk was really goofy, and I loved watching him play.  Morgan could be a one dog entertainment show most of the day.

I regret that we didn't take up hiking with the dogs when we still had Hawk.  He hated walking in town, but if we went to a different place, he was happy to go along.  I suspect that he and Treat both would have liked hiking, but we had the idea that Greyhounds didn't do such things, and we hadn't learned to appreciate it that much ourselves.  Having Morgan has been good for us in that respect.  She needs the activity, both physically, but also the mental stimulation that comes with our hikes.  I think it's also good for her to see that the world is a mostly not too scary place. 

Hawk wasn't perfect when we brought him home, and Morgan isn't either, but I grew by leaps and bounds as a person through my experiences of meeting and rising to the challenges that living with Hawk brought me, and I think I've already grown some with Morgan.  It's sometimes hard to see those opportunities for growth when you're going through the growing pains, but it's rewarding to look back and see where you ended up.  So, please join with us today as we celebrate Morgan's second birthday.  Our journey together is just starting, but who knows where we'll all end up!

Puppies, We're Not In Kansas Anymore

We had a wicked storm the other night and it reminded me that we're in the midst of tornado season here in the Midwest.  As we sat and listened to storm warnings, I thought back to an earlier chapter in our lives.  It's a story that I thought might be fun to share.

The first year that we had Lilac found us still helping with a small greyhound adoption group that sadly is no longer in existance.  Mr. Taleteller and I had agreed to adopt Lilac, so we weren't really fostering greyhounds anymore, but we were still active with the group and doing what we could to help out. 

The woman who ran the group lives just a couple blocks down the street from us.  She had a pretty good relationship with some greyhound trainers and owners and she'd taken in several greyhounds who'd had an illicit meeting at the back fence and had come into a family way.  Greyhound puppies are a hot commodity in greyhound groups.  Don't ask me why, they're horrible little creatures most of the time!  They're often referred to as landsharks for good reason.  In any event, a female was brought to her who was suspected to be in the disgraced condition of being knocked up, but the trainer wasn't sure.

As weeks passed by, we'd go down to visit every few days and it soon became evident that she was indeed expecting.  A whelping box was prepared and she had her own private room in the basement.  She was a rather young greyhound, but a very sweet girl.  When it looked like she might possibly explode and that the arrival of the puppies had to be any day, something unexpected happend.  She had a seizure and collapsed on the concrete floor.  The mother-to-be was scooped up (no easy task with a dog who'd become wider than she is tall) and rushed to the vet.  The vet felt that she was still alright and sent her back to the house, saying that it was likely a sign that her puppies would arrive soon. 

Sure enough, the next day, she started to deliver her puppies.  The first one was born, a cute little brindle, and then she tried to deliver the second.  That second puppy would not come out.  Finally, some time later, the stillborn puppy came out.  Concern rose because she couldn't seem to get the next one out, either.  The woman's husband was gone, so she called us and we went down, helped load mama dog and her puppy into the back of their SUV and Mr. Taleteller rode in back with her while the woman drove.  I followed in our car in case we needed to leave for some reason. 

It was later in the day and the vet was called at home before we left.  He agreed to meet us there at his office.  When we arrived, he quickly decided that an emergency C-section had to be performed.  I assure you that when I woke up that morning, I had no idea that I was going to be helping with an emergency C-section on a dog.  We each had a towel and were given instructions on how to rub the puppies vigorously until the water was squeezed out of their lungs so they could begin to breathe.  There wasn't any time to be squeamish about it.  It was like catching a water balloon and I worked on my puppy for quite a while and sure enough, soon he started showing signs of life.  Another puppy was stillborn, but four more were born alive.  The mother was spayed right there before he sewed her up.  Because of the circumstances and the fact that she had things already set up for the mother and puppies at her house, they all went back home that night. 

The next morning, mama dog killed one of the puppies by stepping on it.  By three days afterwards, there were only two left alive.  Her maternal instinct just wasn't kicking in, so it was decided that the two surviving puppies would be taken away from her.  For a couple of weeks, they were taken care of at the vet's office, but then it was time for them to leave and go to someone who could care for them.  That turned out to be Mr. Taleteller and me.

I wasn't sure how our greyhounds would react to the puppies, particularly Lilac.  Hawk, in typical fashion, was terrified of them and refused to have anything to do with them.  Lilac looked at them as if they were spawns of the devil.  Of course, she was the only one of us who had any experience with greyhound puppies, so she was wise to avoid them.  I also later learned that just before she'd come to us, she'd left her second litter of puppies behind, so she was definitely still in the mood to be done with mama duties.  Treat was fascinated by them, though, and she'd sit beside me when I fed them, carefully supervising everything that went on.

We began taking care of the puppies in July.  For several days, I didn't leave the house at all.  I wanted to keep a close eye on my little charges.  Finally, though, I had a bill that had to be mailed over in town, and so I made up my mind to run quickly to town.  I figured that it would only take me about an hour and a half to run over and get back home. 

As I got ready to leave, I noticed that the sky was turning a bit grey and a few drops of rain were starting to fall.  I contemplated going back home.  Lilac is very storm phobic and worries and frets as storms approach, but I convinced myself to go anyway, because my errand really needed to be done.  So, I headed out of town.  Driving down the main road, I could see the storm rapidly approaching from my right and it looked like one doozy of a storm.  The sky was dark, angry grey that just roiled around.   I drove past a small manufacturing plant out in the middle of the cornfields and went over a small hill. 

It's funny how certain things in life happen all in a matter of timing.  Twenty minutes after I drove past that plant, I began hearing things on the radio about a tornado blowing through.  The more I heard, the more I felt that I needed to get my errand done and get back home.  I called my husband on my cell phone because he'd been out of town for work that day and I knew he'd hear about things from his office and be worried.  Getting back home proved to be a monumental task.  It seems that I missed the path of an F4 tornado by about two minutes. 

The manufactuing plant was decimated.  So were four houses that were along the road.  As a matter of fact, the whole road was closed because one of the houses was set back down right in the middle of the road.  Miles and miles of electric poles were taken out.  I had to drive way out and around through small country roads to get back home. 

We were without power for a week.  Our area was the center of a media circus for that amount of time, too.  I felt like I was living in an episode Little House on the Prairie.  Suddenly, preparing puppy bottles was a big production.  We did get lucky.  My dad has a generator and he brought it over, so we had about half of our house running on electricity.  It's a big status symbol here in our little village.  Actually, for the next three years in a row, we made use of that generator thanks to tornado season and an ice storm, all of which knocked us out of power for nearly a week each time. 

It's funny how we take so many things for granted.  I was glad that we had the whole experience, though.  We learned a lot, and honestly, we really had fun with those puppies while they were here.  I also really appreciated our creature comforts after that.  I guess it's a good example of life being what you make of it, too!

Greyhounds Pas De Deux

In case you've been getting tired of stories of us going on walks, I decided to tell a story from long ago that has to do with Treat and Hawk back when Lilac was still a foster dog. 

In December of 2003 a request went out to the greyhound adoption groups in our area from the Peoria Ballet.  They were looking for male greyhounds to audition to be in the hunt scene of their production of Giselle.  Specifically, they were looking for large males who looked like they'd just come off the racetrack.  That would mean that their muscles were still pretty well-defined.  In other words, they wanted hounds that were ripped.  However, there weren't a whole lot of hounds in our area at the time who were fresh off the track.  They looked at Hawk and decided that they definitely wanted him in the production. 

After some other hounds had to back out for various reasons, they also decided to let Treat be in the production, which made me pretty happy.  She was Hawk's rock and pretty much anywhere she would go, he would follow.  Twelve greyhounds were decided on to be in the production and she was the only female.  It's true, there was no one the little diva couldn't win over.  I should also mention that Mr. Taleteller was chosen as one of the two handlers to walk out on stage with the hounds during the production.

In return for allowing our hounds to be in the ballet, our adoption group was given the opportunity to hold a meet and greet in the theatre lobby.  The only catch was that we had to dress in period costume, so I also had to get a costume to wear.  I found one, thanks to ebay, and we began to start attending rehearsals with the hounds.

Mr. Taleteller and another person each had to lead six greyhounds out on the stage.  This was no easy feat.  Some of the hounds weren't used to walking with others, only two, Treat and Hawk, knew the person they were walking with, and there were all sorts of things going on both onstage and off.  The hounds had to have collars that looked like they were from that period which was a bit difficult, too.  Finally, though, we had everything we needed.   Our dressing room was originally on the third floor, but after two nights of dragging panting dogs out on stage, they gave us the delivery dock as a dressing room, which was just outside the backstage door. 

Rehearsals went pretty well and soon the night of the performance arrived. As we waited, Roberta Flack came by.  As it turned out, she was in town to perform at another event and someone was driving her around town to entertain her before it was time for her to be there.  She had owned Italian Greyhounds and when she saw the hounds, she had the driver stop and got out to see the dogs.  Who knew greyhounds were such celebrities?  She even posed for pictures with the hounds.

Finally, it was time for the show.  I stood with Mr. Taleteller keeping the dogs all lined up until it was time for them to move out onto the stage.  At the last minute, Hawk pulled what we always referred to as his jackass routine where he'd back up and rear like a stallion.  Without missing a beat, I grabbed his leash and hissed at my husband to just go.  Hawk twined around my legs and wagged his tail as he watched the others glide out onto the stage.  Treat pranced across the stage as if she were the prima ballerina.  The ooos and aaahs of the crowd told us backstage that the dogs had completely stolen the show.

During the intermission, we were mobbed.  People couldn't get enough of the greyhounds.  Treat, especially, ate the attention up.  It was really an amazing night.  There were a lot of people who wanted to know how they could get one of their own, and we were happy to tell them.  An article about the performance was done in the fall issue of Celebrating Greyhounds in 2004.  When the ballet toured that summer, they asked several other greyhound groups to participate as well, since we couldn't take off work and drive the dogs around the country to the different performances, however, our group was the first.  Being in the ballet was definitely one of the most interesting things that we have done with the greyhounds.  You never know where your dogs will take you!

Birthday Wishes For A Prince Among Dogs

At night, when you look up at the sky,

since I shall be living on a star,

and since I shall be laughing on a star,

for you it will be as if all the stars are laughing.

You alone will have stars that can laugh!

And when you have got over your loss

(for we always do),

you’ll be happy to have known me.

You will always be my friend.

 -- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

I think we have come to that point here, after Hawk's quiet passing in the beginning of November.  It doesn't mean that we don't still miss him at times, but now, we can reflect on our happy memories together and smile or laugh.  No doubt this is what the big guy would prefer.  He never could stand to see anyone upset.  Today would have been his thirteenth birthday.

There's no denying it, losing a dog is one of the most painful things that many of us go through.  Most dog lovers can attest to that fact.  Still, I look back on the lifetime Hawk spent with us, and I wouldn't trade the pain of missing him for the many happy memories we shared.  I think of all the hard work that went into bringing him home with us.  I sure learned a lot of lessons about patience from that boy.  We couldn't raise our voices about anything without upsetting him a great deal, even if we were happy or excited.  Stopping him from doing things he shouldn't was a fine balance.  Convincing him to move past his fears was, too.  I am not a patient person by nature, but I learned to cultivate it with him. 

I was certainly richly rewarded for it, too.  Hawk didn't hold back in letting you know that he loved you or that he was happy with what he had.  I still sometimes walk into the kitchen and am surprised that I don't feel him bumping twice against my hip.  It was his way of letting me know he was there and happy to help with any tasting that might be required, or just in case I needed a fuzzy ear to rub.  He was tall enough that I didn't have to bend down to reach him.  As soon as your hand reached his body, a huge grin spread across his goofy face and his tail would gently wag.  He just had a way of making you feel as if you really mattered to him. 

As he got older, the brindle spots on his body began to show a lot of white.  Mr. Taleteller joked that it was because he liked to be scratched in these spots and we were wearing the color off the poor boy.  He certainly did love our attention.  He left with a little piece of our hearts, but I believe he left us with a piece of his in return.  We were truly blessed to share his life with him!

Ghosts of Christmas Past

As the Christmas season begins to envelop us, I am reminded of the first year that my husband and I celebrated Christmas with greyhounds.  The year before had been the first year we'd celebrated Christmas in our new house, but there had been a blizzard every weekend of December and it had been too treacherous for us to venture out to get a Christmas tree.  We barely managed to get our Christmas shopping done.  Treat was our Christmas present to ourselves that year and she came home on December 30.  She would have experienced a Christmas tree if the weather gods had been more favorable, but as it was, she and Hawk celebrated their first Christmas together in our house with a tree at the end of the next year.

I can remember the look on Hawk's face as we'd brought the tree into the living room.  His eyes said "You love me so much, you got me indoor plumbing" but we informed him that it wasn't the case and life started off rather smoothly.  This Christmas tree was particularly difficult to get set up in the stand, but we persevered and were soon rewarded with a rather nice-looking tree in our living room.  Charlie Brown would have been envious.  The cats seemed to have more interest in the tree than the dogs did and we soon relaxed about having any accidents or problems. 

About a week before Christmas, my husband and I went out shopping together.  We had packed in a busy day and had picked up a few toys for the dogs while we were out.  One of those was a stuffed snowman that sang "Jingle Bells" that I thought Hawk would really like.  As we were wrapping up our shopping, we got a phone call that my husband's great grandmother was in the hospital.  We ran home, since we were shopping in a different city from where she was hospitalized, and fed the dogs and let them out.  While we were home, I couldn't resist giving Hawk the new toy.  His eyes lit up and his tail went into helicopter circles.  The toy incited him into a near rapturous state as he pounced on it and tossed it around.  We left the house again, satisfied that the dogs were taken care of for the next few hours and went to visit at the hospital. 

When we came home, my husband said "The Christmas tree is gone."  I thought he was joking, which he nearly always is, and laughed it off.  However, when we entered the back door, I knew that something was terribly wrong.  Instead of two happy hounds at the back door, we were greeted by silence.  Treat and Hawk came creeping across the kitchen floor looking so guilty and terrified that I could not imagine what had happened.  As I walked into the living room, I learned the truth.

Our Christmas tree lay on the ground, a strand of white lights trailing in a straight line towards the kitchen door.  Ornaments were scattered across the living room floor.  The candles on the coffee table were broken and hanging off the edge of the table.  Two of the crocheted ornaments that had been hanging on the tree had been attacked by Treat in a fit of retribution and had been left chewed and gummy.  My husband took them out to the turn out pens and then brought them into the garage while we cleaned up the carnage.  Half an hour later, we had righted the tree, cleaned up the ornaments, run the vaccuum and brought the dogs back in.  We imagine that Hawk was playing with the snowman, tossed it into the tree or beneath it, then got caught in the lights as he tried to retrieve it, setting off the chain of events.

The next morning we noticed that the tree was listing to the side.  By afternoon it had to be readjusted and we could see that there were some pretty deep scars in the trunk from the fall the night before.  We got out some pieces of plywood and stuck them in between the tree and the screws from the tree stand.  That helped for a few days.  Then the cat decided that he should pee on the tree.  That smelled bad enough, but then the wood began to rot.  The day after Christmas, we drug the dilapidated tree to the curb and everyone breathed a sigh of relief for their own reasons.  We couldn't stand the smell, the cats didn't like it blocking their afternoon sunshine and the dogs didn't like the way it kept looking at them funny.  We laugh about that tree every year as we get ready to set up one for the new season.

Reminiscing

I would like to start by offering a huge thank you to everyone who has expressed their condolences to us over Hawk's passing. It has been a great comfort, especially since we just weren't expecting to lose him. He was almost thirteen years old and I didn't think he'd live forever, but I thought he'd bounce back and be with us for a while longer. I feel mostly at peace with our decision to let him go, but we miss him greatly. As I read through messages that people sent to us, I kept thinking to myself, "Oh, I should have mentioned that, or that, and I can't believe I didn't tell that story."

There was the time he fell asleep and scared himself with his own fart. We laughed so hard over that, but perhaps it wouldn't have been the best story to tell in his eulogy. There was the story about him with our crazy cat, Blizzard. That cat put the fear of God into more foster greyhounds that we had than I can count, and he got his bluff on over Hawk from the minute the poor guy set foot in our house. There's the story about the time Hawk and Treat appeared in a professional ballet production, all in the name of helping other greyhounds get adopted. He put up with a lot of silliness from us. He looks so GQ in all of the pictures we have of him, but the truth is, he was really a lovable goofball who was very protective of his toys. He'd sit on them to protect them from our fosters if he had to. He was deathly afraid of the camera, certain it would steal his soul with that crazy flash, and so he'd never look directly at it, hence the reason he always appeared so dignified in his photos. There was also his deep love of popcorn and the fact that for the last seven years we have not been able to say "potty" or anything that remotely sounds like it without making a trip to the back door, even if we just came in. All blog stories for a rainy day, perhaps.

He really loved his girls, and that included Treat, first and foremost, and me, but he also felt the need to take Blueberry and Bunny under his wing. He and Lilac got along, but perhaps he realized that our sassy little mama dog could take care of herself better than he could. They were never particularly chummy, but they seemed to have an understanding. He was happy when we brought Bunny home and one thing I wish I'd gotten a picture of were the times Bunny would walk underneath him, but this always happened at the back door at turn out time. He must have liked her, because nobody else could ever have pulled that off. He'd look at her and sort of shake his head as if to say, "Kids, what can you do with them."

He also loved to go on trips with us, and surprisingly, was a model hound whenever we went somewhere away from home. Apparently, there was no danger of the sky falling when we weren't in our own quiet little town. Either that or he was too busy making sure Treat and I didn't fall in the ocean or fall victims to some other disaster.

And now that we've celebrated his life, we're going to do our best to look forward. We have a very important event coming up on Tuesday that involves a certain little puppy here and we're excited about that. More than anything, Hawk would want us to remember him with a smile and a laugh, not with tears, and that's what we plan to do. He was a one of a kind, a dog who would have been a long, tall cowboy if he'd been human, and we'll always remember him with gratitude that he came into our lives. We thank everyone for enjoying hime with us!

Happy Trails to You, Til We Meet Again

Today was the end of a journey, one that took a lifetime of almost thirteen years to complete. January 30, 1997 Stat US Hawk came into this world as a member of a large litter of puppies. Tonight, he left to move on to a better place, where old bodies don't give out, there's no danger of the sky ever falling and there are endless morning scratches and treats. If I'm honest with myself, he was ready to go when Treat left us a year and a half ago. He grieved for her almost as badly as I did, perhaps more in some ways, but I have a feeling he was torn. In his world, things were perfect when we were all together. When we were at home, everyone was supposed to be in the same room so he could keep track of them. He would never stand up for himself, but he was fiercely protective of Treat and me. I think he would have lay down and gone right along with her when she died, but he felt that he had to continue to do his job and keep the rest of us all together. Every night when it was time for bed, he couldn't rest until every person and dog was secure in the bedroom. If one of the girls didn't come to bed, he had to pace restlessly back and forth from the bedroom to the living room.

He wasn't an easy greyhound. We got Treat and she came into our lives as effortlessly as if she'd always been here. Hawk bit me three weeks after we brought him home, and we learned about things like fear biting. When he'd bite, it was because he felt cornered, and he was a very nervous sort of guy. When we went to the kennel to choose a second greyhound, Treat made her preference clear. When Hawk came in the room, she played for the first time since we'd adopted her months before. Several others came in and she was completely indifferent to them. Hawk came back in and she was playing again. We'd thought a new dog would make her feel safe and confident on walks. As it turned out, she stepped up because she realized he needed to be protected from the world. He was happy to be at home with his toys and his family, and he really didn't care to go anywhere else.

A year after we brought him home, we enrolled in a greyhounds only obedience class, partially because we wanted to start doing nursing home visits with Treat and partly because we thought it would give Hawk some much needed confidence. He excelled at obedience -- at home. For the class, I took Hawk while my husband took Treat. We would practice all week and Hawk was spot on. Treat would turn her head and ignore my husband completely, much to his irritation. Then, we'd go to class. Hawk was convinced that our instructor was a devil in disguise and he wanted nothing to do with her. He refused to do anything in class besides the recall, which he did excellently, running from the instructor to find me as if the hounds of hell were at his heels. He was so good at obedience that one day when he slipped his collar because he was afraid of a neighbor of ours and ran for home that I yelled "sit" and he sat at the intersection and waited for me instead of crossing into the street.

He didn't ever really mind the weather, but he loved this time of year in particular, when my husband would start bringing his quilt out to lay on the floor. In the first year we had him, he was so jumpy that we couldn't lay down near him. Then, one day he decided it was okay and came over to lay down beside me, resting against my leg. It was a moment I'll always remember. He became quite a snuggle hound in his older age. As soon as he saw someone with a quilt or blanket, he was pacing, waiting to get to the dog bed nearest that quilt first so he didn't miss out. I can't begin to count the number of days I've come out of the shower in the morning to see Hawk's nose and my husband's feet sticking out from beneath the quilt.

I can remember the first Christmas we had with them. We got a snowman toy for him that sang "Jingle Bells" and it drove him crazy. My husband's grandmother was in the hospital, so a short while after giving him the toy, we ran out to visit the hospital. When we came home, it was Christmas Carnage. Instead of two happy hounds greeting us at the back door, they came creeping towards us, guilt and terror on their faces. Our best guess is that the snowman got too close to the Christmas tree and then he got something caught in the tree lights. The tree was entirely down, ornaments were strewn about and two very nervous greyhounds awaited us. Then the cat peed on the tree to add insult to injury. Things with that tree just kept getting worse. We laugh about that every year at Christmas when we pull out the few surviving ornaments.

We often took Hawk to the nursing home when he was younger. He had a repertoire of tricks that he would do to entertain the residents because he wasn't always the most social with people. Yet, he always had a knack for finding the one person off in the corner alone who needed a quiet presence to lean against them. One woman in the Alzheimer's ward asked me every month what his name was. Then she'd turn and announce to the others "This is my dog Spot" as she gripped his leash between me and him. He always stood there patiently, waiting for me to disentangle him so we could move along.

Hawk taught me so many lessons about patience and perseverance, I can never count them all. I thought in the beginning that I was teaching him how to be a good dog, but the truth is, he was busy teaching me how to be a good person. In my heart, I can imagine him already running, his ball in his mouth with Treat running at warp speed behind him, the way they often did here at the baseball diamond. No doubt they have a lot of catching up to do. I know that I have been blessed to have them touch me in with all their perfect imperfections. Hawk, you wonderful, soft hearted mama's boy, I miss you so much already. Run free and be well!

Things We Do For Love

I have mentioned that our handsome boy, Hawk, who really hates the limelight, has not been feeling well. Ever since we went through that round of sickness from the bad dog food, he has been losing weight. He hasn't bounced back, and given his age, that's a cause for real worry. So, since I happen to be sick today myself, we decided to move his vet appointment up to today to see if we could get some answers as to what's wrong. To protect his dignity, I did not take the camera along today, although I wished I had as we drove over this morning.



Hawk has always loved to go for car rides, as long as the car ride involves going to a drive through where he gets some French fries or a Milkbone at the magic window. He's even happy to ride to the grocery store and wait in the car when the weather is nice. Just don't take him to Petsmart or somewhere else where he has to go inside. He hates the strange acoustics in Petsmart and will do almost anything to get out of there, including poop on the floor. That was a long time ago, however, and we don't bring it up. Today he thought he was in heaven, bless his heart, as he rode in the van between my husband and me, watching out the window.



Given how weak he's been in the back end, we encouraged him to lay down. Apparently, that won't allow him to see if the sky starts to fall, which he knows it will at some point. He went to the back bench seat and tried to climb up, turning to look at me in what has become a classic pose for him -- front feet up on what he wants to climb up on, back feet on the floor as he gazes at me and waits for help. I suspect that he's gotten a little to used to the help, since he went and jumped into the back seat of the car on his own the day I was frantically trying to load Lilac into the car when she had her strange seizure. Anyhow, he wanted on the back seat, so I crawled to the back and lifted his back legs up for him. He gave me his big grin and I crawled back up to my seat. As I strapped on my seat belt, there he appeared again. I sighed and patted his head in reassurance. A few minutes later, he was back at the seat, waiting for my help again. Dutifully, I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed back again to lift his butt back onto the seat. As I sat down, there he was to sniff my arm again. Then he returned to the back.



Husband: Maybe he wants the seat down. You just pull it out in the front.



Me: Okay! (climbing back into the rear of the van again)



Hawk: Aww, you really love me!



Me: (after pulling the seat out so it's a big flat surface for him) Okay, this is the last time I'm lifting your butt up here!



Hawk: I'll take that under advisement.



So, I lift him up and get back into my seat as my husband giggles over what the people in the car behind us think I must be doing to the dog back there. Of course, a minute later, Hawk's back up in the front with his happy grin. I just look at him and shake my head. He stood the whole half hour ride to the vet's office, which was not a wise decision on his part.



We entered the vet's office and Hawk was escorted to the scale where they confirmed that he's lost a lot of weight. We went into an exam room and laid a bed down for him. Of course, he still wouldn't lay down. The vet came in and we spoke about what's been going on. In order to help allay his fears, we went back into the back exam area with him, and I will say that I am happy we have a vet who welcomes us back there with our dogs. There aren't any mysteries about what happens back there for us. My husband lifted him up onto the elevator table and they secured him and raised the table. The vet tech held his front end as the vet began her exam. Hawk started to get tired and nervous. I saw his back end sagging. He could have sat on the table, but his dignity told him to stand. So, being the person who loves him, I stood behind him and held his back end up. Yes, the things we do for love!



At last the exam was over, his blood drawn and they needed to get a urine sample. They walked him out the back door and we returned to the exam room. A few minutes passed and the vet tech returned him to us stating that he wouldn't go. That's a first! He's almost always locked and loaded, ready to drop pee-mail whenever the need arises. Still, it wasn't a big deal and he was very stressed. So, we'll see what happens and if we're able, I guess we'll make a delivery to the vet's office later when he's feeling more refreshed. Hawk still refused to lie down, but his rear end wasn't taking the hint. We spoke to the vet and then it was time to go. My husband took him out to the van while I paid the bill.



Then we had to make a stop at McDonald's so he could have a hash brown, since it was too early for French fries. Bless his heart for believing that was the real reason that we took the whole trip. He polished it off as he rested on the dog bed, finally laying down and comfortable. He rested the whole way home and allowed my husband to carry him into the house, assuming he'd finally been promoted to king of the castle status. He's now resting comfortably on his favorite bed as we await word on the test results. It was an eventful morning for the old guy and fortunately, he saw it as an adventurous outing and doesn't hold a grudge.

There's No Place Like Home

Today I went back to work after our three week break, and I have to say, it was a nice return. The kids were happy to be back to school (one of the reasons I love Pre K) and my teaching partner and I were both well rested and refreshed as well. I got some very exciting news last night that made it a bit hard to go to sleep, but I still managed to wind down and realize that this is the first time I've been excited to go back to school in about a year. Still, it was hard to leave the dogs behind this morning. Hawk and Lilac are older and I worry about them a little. Blueberry likes to have her own bit of time together, but she really prefers to be with people on her own terms. Bunny, however, practically held on to my leg and begged me not to go. It was a sad sight to be sure.

Still, the best part about going back to work today was coming home tonight. There's nothing like the greeting of happy hounds at the back door. I got fanfare from the kids at school when they saw me to be sure, but it was nothing like coming home to loyal hounds who were elated by my return. The girls ran to greet me at the back door, tails wagging and feet tap dancing on the linoleum while Hawk barked at me from the living room.

They all have their own little rituals. Blueberry has to be the first at the back door, her head wobbling like a little bobble head, always waiting to be the first one spoken to and petted. Lilac stands on the step, ears raised to inquisitive half mast as she barks a deep bark that would make any robber wet his pants, even though what she's really saying is "I've been waiting all day for you!" She bats her big brown eyes and waits for me to scratch her behind the ear. Bunny holds back, but then can't contain herself any longer. She pushes her way through to get to me, sometimes walking under Blueberry if she has to. Then she stands before me, all wiggles until I pet her, then she's off like a shot through the kitchen to the living room. Hawk barks at me and then I let him out and he runs a half circle around me, pausing to lean his large frame against my leg and gaze up at me with his soulful eyes. Then Bunny explodes in her little dance of joy, running around the living room, over the couch and pausing there, begging me to sit down for just a second so she can press herself as close to me as possible and twisting herself like a pretzel so that she can lean her body against me and have her belly rubbed at the same time.

Of course, this only lasts for a few minutes and then the fanfare is over. The demands for bathroom breaks and dinner ensue and I'm relegated back to my status as servant to the hounds. Still, it's all worth it for those golden moments of arrival!

Wordless Wednesday 10/14 -- Pajama Party

(If you want to buy jammies, we got ours at http://www.downtownhoundz.net/)

So, You're Saying There's A Chance?

Since the fiasco of Lilac's birthday breakfast, we have had a surge of more than the usual begging from a certain dog here in the house. It started innocently enough. Hawk lost a considerable amount of weight and he's always been on the lean side. He didn't have the weight to lose, so we began making a special recipe we got on Greytalk for meatballs that involved raw hamburger, peanut butter, oat meal, eggs and Karo syrup. It stimulated all the hounds to eat A LOT! Bunny was stalking the others, trying to get every morsel of the concoction that she could. Hawk was reluctant to eat it at first, and Bunny was happy to scarf it up for him lest it go to waste, but after he did, he became ravenous. He was practically tap dancing in the kitchen to get his next meal.

He has always had a habit of feeling that we should feed him some of what we are eating. I have no idea where he got that idea! Certainly not from my husband feeding him part of his sandwich every day at lunch time. Since the illness and the meatballs, however, he had become pushier than an old lady at senior discount day at the local buffet. He barks, insistantly, like a seal and does a little hop on his front feet. You would honestly believe that we were starving him here the way he carries on. The conversations between he and my husband over food leave me giggling to myself, but I dare not comment out loud.

Hawk: Hey!

Husband: Don't even start! I am not giving you my food!

Hawk: (looking suitably pathetic) I'm hungry!

Husband: You have a bowl full of dog food in there!

Hawk: It's just plain old kibble! I'm old! I need proper sustanance!

Husband: What's in your bowl is all you're getting!

Hawk: (beginning to drool) My bowl is empty! I swear! I'm still hungry!

Husband: I don't believe you. I was just in the kitchen. Now go on!

Hawk: (looking like Old Yeller, an Oscar worthy performance if there ever was one) I'm STAAAAAAAARVING!

Husband: You can't be starving! We spend ungodly amounts of money on your food every month! You eat better than we do!

Hawk: I beg to differ! (staring pointedly at Husband's sandwich)

Husband: This conversation is over. I'm not giving it to you and that's final!

Hawk: (moving closer, employing some long lost instincts from his coyote cousins) Is that your final answer?

Husband: Yes it is! NOW GO LAY DOWN!

Hawk: (goes to the bed, circles, then reappears silently over Husband's shoulder) Look, Blueberry's stealing your sandwich!

Husband: What? Hawk, I told you no! Oh geez! You're drooling on my sandwich!

Hawk: Well, it's no good now! I guess you'll just have to throw it in my food bowl...

Husband: (grumbling) Oh, just eat it!

Hawk: I knew you'd see it my way eventually!


We'd also like to wish Husband a very Happy Birthday on Tuesday! He puts up with so much. We really do love him for it!

Sometimes It's Better To Be A Dog!

About a week ago, we noticed that the water seemed to be running down the sidewalk in front of our house. We waited for the town water department to come and look at it. They did come out and inspect it, and then delivered the news that the water leak appeared to be on the pipe on our side of the shut off instead of theirs and that we'd have to replace the pipe ourselves. That was not the news we were hoping for, but we called around and finally found a contractor willing to come out and take care of the problem. Yesterday was the day when they were finally able to work on the pipe.

It started out simply enough. They used a large saw and cut through the sidewalk so they could lift it out. Then the scary part came for me. They went in our basement and cut a hole in the foundation of our house near the water meter. Surprisingly, the dogs were mildly curious when he came in the house, but after the disappointment of not being petted, they returned to the living room and went back to their regularly scheduled naps. The hounds were completely unconcerned by the fact that the water was now shut off. I was less calm about this fact than they were as I went into the bathroom and realized that they'd shut the water off before lunch and I'd used the last flush of the toilet. Still, I told myself that things would be alright.


My husband arrived home for lunch and he and Bunny went out to inspect the hole they'd dug. Bunny was pretty curious about what was going on. We had lunch and tried to go about life as usual. I will say that it's very easy to forget how easy we have it with running water most of the time. It's something that you take for granted. Still, I was hopeful that we'd simply have a few hours of inconvenience and then be ready to move on with life. The men returned to work after they had lunch and the dogs blissfully slept through the noise and commotion. That surprised me a bit, to be honest. People tramping in and out the back door, drills and saws going off, a backhoe running outside and they were all chasing rabbits in their sleep. The only thing that roused them all day was the sound of the doorbell ringing, but that proved to be merely a minor inconvenience to them. As soon as they realized it wasn't someone delivering stuff for them, they were completely uninterested. I no longer hold any delusions that they will put up even a token effort to defend me should we become victims of robbers or other nefarious criminal types. In his younger days, Hawk might have stood up for me, but he's too old to be too concerned with heroism now. Bunny couldn't even dream about being ferocious. Lilac could scare someone with her deep bark, but wouldn't go to the trouble. Blueberry might notice that they came in, but she'd soon get distracted by fluffing a dog bed and forget about it. So, I now know with certainty that I'll be on my own if the time ever comes.

As the afternoon wore on, I began to really appreciate the convenience of modern bathrooms as well as really missing having my own in working order. Maybe having a spare outhouse wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I remember how ticked off Treat was that she didn't have a special place to go inside when it rained and I wondered if somehow this was some cosmic joke of hers. In due time, Hawk and Lilac came over to let me know that it was time for turn out as I sat holding my bladder on the couch.

Me: Just hold on a little bit, guys!

Hawk: No, this is urgent!

Me: You think it's urgent five minutes after you just went out!

Lilac: We're old and we aren't going to hold it for you, or anybody!

Me: Guys, you really want me to walk all the way out to the pens in this condition?

Blueberry: You're kidding right? We have to go out there in snow, sleet, rain and heat! My Gosh, the heat! Suck it up, will ya?

Me: If you really loved me, you'd wait until I can get in the bathroom!

Bunny: I'll share the dog pen with you if you let me sniff your butt!

Me: Fine! You guys have it so easy!

And so, I realized that sometimes it really might be better just to live the simple life of a canine. Most of the time, I enjoy being a human, but sometimes I experience a pang of envy as I see them all camped out, enjoying the morning sunshine as I go off to work. They really do have it made, even if they don't have indoor plumbing!

At the end of the afternoon, the contractor rang the doorbell and informed me that they'd done their work. The pipe on our end was replaced and the hole in the basement was mortared in. The city came by and realized that the pipe on their side of the shut off was bad, too, so the joy is that now we have orange cones and sawhorses in front of our house along with a piece of plywood over the gaping hole. And we get to do the whole thing all over again when the city decides to fix their side of the pipe.