Behold -- The Power of the Shake Can!

Now that the weather is cooling off some, we've been thrilled to be able to have the house open most of the time.  I like to be able to keep the front door open onto the front porch where we can watch the world go by our little corner.  It's one of my favorite things about the arrival of Spring and Fall.

This year, however, things have been a little different.  In specific, that would be the arrival of Miss Morgan.  There are a lot of people who walk past our house and she does not like it.  A favorite evening's entertainment for her is running back and forth from the kitchen window to the front door, barking at any person, dog or leaf that goes past our house.  I really find this less that amusing or charming.  The Greyhounds appear to be less than entertained as well, especially when she leaps over them as they lie on the floor doing their best speed bump impressions. 

I already hear some of the Shepherd people out there getting ready to advise us to redirect her.  Believe me, we're on it.  I started with calling her to me with a simple sit command that I know she understands.  That is not strong enough a lure for her when the Border Collie puppy from down the street walks by.  He could be a closet terrorist, you know!

So, Mr. Taleteller reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out the squirt bottle.  Just the sound of the water sloshing in said bottle strikes fear into the hearts of the Greyhounds -- well, Blueberry and Bunny anyway.  Lilac doesn't hear it and she's shameless anyway.  As Morgan stood barking at the front door and avoiding eye contact with him, which somehow means in her mind that she does not have to listen to a command, he squirted her with the bottle.  In a million to one shot, he got her right in the behind.  Morgan leapt into the air, did a half turn and glared at him in shock.  He told her to be quiet and knock it off.  She replied by giving one final woof.  Ahhh, the joys of the teenage years! 

The other night, I was offering suggestions to a friend about a problem she's had with one of her dogs and I suggested trying a shake can.  Then, like a beam of celestial light, I felt myself illuminated by my own wisdom.  I decided to try a shake can the next time Morgan started her shenanigans.  For those who don't know, a shake can is a metal can left after you get canned fruit or vegetables.  You slice off the open end, fill it with pennies, washers or beebees, then cover it with duct tape.  Sure enough, after dinner was over and we were all settling in to relax for the evening, Morgan's patrol alerted her to possible danger.  I picked up the can and gave it a loud shake.  Morgan froze in her tracks and nearly fell over on the floor.  I told her to knock it off and she did.  Every time she got started and ready to bark, I shook it and she got quiet.  Two days later, she didn't offer to bark at all.  She still patrols from time to time, but so far, nobody on the sidewalk near our house has had heart palpitations or wet their pants.  I consider this one small victory for me, although I know it's possible it won't last.  She looks awfully angelic laying on the dog bed with her nose tucked under her tail for a change!

We're also participating in this Saturday's Pet Blog Hop, hosting by Life With Dogs, Two Little Cavaliers and Confessions of the Plume.  If you'd like to participate, please follow the rules and follow your three hosts, add your blog to the Linky and copy and paste the html code into your html editor.  Thanks again to our hosts for putting on the hop!

Late Night Chat With Lilac

Well, to top things off this week with our run of bad luck, Lilac decided that this week would be a good one to start having our late night chats again.  I love a lot of things about her, like how she came over to me yesterday evening when I got home from work and let me know she'd missed me by leaning against me and burying her head against my chest, but her barking out her demands is not one of her most endearing traits.  This is especially true at oh dark thirty in the morning.  Even roosters can't take her schedule.  Lately, she's decided to skip her less demanding pleas for attention, like whining and the cold nose poke in the back and gone straight to demanding barks.

Lilac:  Get up, dammit!

Me:  Wha...? 

Lilac:  I said now!

Me:  Do you know what time it is?

Lilac:  I'm a dog.  I don't concern myself with human conventions like time.

Me:  Apparently not.

Lilac:  I'm waiting!

Me:  I have NO idea what you want at this hour!

Lilac:  (pant, pant)  How can you not know?

Me:  Um, because I'm not a dog?

Lilac:  That is obvious!

Me:  Can you not just tell me what you want?

Lilac:  You're supposed to know!

Me:  Well, I don't.  So, just tell me what it is!

Lilac:  I forgot.

Me:  You forgot?!  Then it couldn't have been that important!

Lilac:  I am sure that it was very important, and it's your job to remember it!  I'm old, dammit!

Me:  Actually, I need to get some sleep so I can go to my job and earn money to buy you stuff.  So, I'll talk to you about this later.

Lilac:  Hmph!

So, the next night we decided to try an experiment.  We brought her bed in, fluffed the pillows in the artful way she seems to prefer, and then brought her fan into the bedroom.  The fan was plugged in and aimed right at her highness.  We all had a much better night's sleep.  It's amazing the things we'll do for love, a few hours sleep, or both!

We're particiapting in the Pet Blog Hop again.  If you don't know what it is, it's a good way to gain new readers and find some new blogs that may be of interest to you.  You simply add your name to the blog roll and then copy the code into your html editor and you're on the list!  We'd like to thank Life With Dogs, Confessions of the Plume and Two Little Cavaliers for hosting the blog hop every week.  Feel free to add your own pet-related blog to the list.

Barking Mad

It seems that Lilac has a new nemesis in our house.  Both Mr. Taleteller and I have both had separate incidents of walking in and hearing Lilac giving someone a firm barking to.  The recipient of her wrath happens to be an innocent (as far as my husband and I can tell) dog bed. 

When I arrived home Monday night, I took the girls out as usual.  After a few minutes of privacy for them, I went out to bring them in.  In typical fashion, Lilac and Bunny had clean feet, but Blueberry was wearing mud galoshes.  So, I sent Bunny and mama dog in the house and Blueberry and I walked around the house to have a look at the new flowers.  It wasn't a long stroll, just down to the front corner where we have some Japanese irises planted by the stop sign and back to the door.  As we walked up, I could hear Lilac barking her displeasure from the back door.  I entered the house and found her barking at the dog bed.

As I told Mr. Taleteller the story, he laughed and shared a similar tale.  He said that when he gets home for lunch every day, there are three noses sticking up in the back kitchen window.  By the time he comes in the back door, Lilac is in the living room, barking at the bed.

I have no idea what the bed has done to make her so angry.  It doesn't appear to have any evil lumps or rolls in it.  It's easy to fluff.  They have nicely annointed it with a pleasant Ode de Greyhound, so it's not stinky.  The poor thing just lays there, taking her abuse.  I'm really at a loss as to what to do.  I don't want the poor bed to suffer some kind of complex.  This is something I never thought I'd have to worry about as a dog owner.  My greyhound is a bed terrorist!

We're Looking For Ideas -- And A Little Sleep

I have mentioned before that Lilac has a lot to say at times.  Her favorite time to tell us something seems to be an hour before the alarm clock goes off.  I used to have the clock set for 6:30 in the morning and she always got up at 5:30.  Later, I changed the clock to 5:30 because I had to get going earlier.  Lilac now gets up at 4:30.  Last week, she decided to get up on Thursday morning at 2:30 and Friday at 3:30.  Thank heaven we were able to sleep in on Saturday and catch up since we're suffering severe sleep deprivation.  Although, I have to say, she really didn't like that!

This has not been an issue until the last year.  Now it is becoming less of an amusing occasional quirk and more of an annoying regular habit.  We have tried a lot of variations in the routine to see if it will help her sleep through the night, and fortunately Bunny and Blueberry have been very adaptable.  We've always done a last turn out right before bed.  We've also started feeding them three meals with the last one being a very small one right before they go to bed.  Nothing seems to help.

Part of it seems to be figuring out what she wants.  She doesn't seem to be needing to use the bathroom really bad.  She doesn't act like she's starving.  Mr. Taleteller used to get up with them, turn them out, feed them and then sleep on the floor under his quilt for a while in between several of the dogs.  Now he's coming back to bed.  She doesn't want to lay back down and go to sleep.  It seems that she wants to just get us all up to do nothing.

I suspect that some of it has to do with her age.  She's fourteen and a half; easily the oldest dog that either of us have lived with.  She is in excellent health, not just for her age, but for a dog of any age.  She plays with stuffies in the living room.  The old lady will even play with Bunny on rare occasion.  She seems to be very aware and alert during the day while we're all home and awake.  It's just this stretch of time at night when she seems dottier than crazy Aunt Martha! 

Has anybody out there ever experienced something like this?  If anybody has any suggestions, we would be happy to hear them.  More than anything, we would just like to get some sleep!  Unlike the Grande Dame, we are not able to take a nap all day -- we have to go to work.  She's lucky we love her!

Well, Excuse Me!

Lilac has this habit of standing over us when she wants attention or,well, anything else.  Lately, Mr. Taleteller and I have taken to attempting to guess what it is she wants.  It's not like we can get anything else done until we figure out what it is, anyway.  She can be rather persistant.

As we sat at home together on Sunday afternoon, she again started her routine of standing very close to us and pushing her head against us.  We talked about it and thought perhaps she'd like to be lifted onto the couch where she could snuggle with me, since her favorite dog bed was being occupied and Mr. Taleteller wasn't feeling in the mood to lay down on the floor with her under the quilt.  We also just wanted to see her lay down and rest a little bit, as we're starting to worry about her standing too long in her older age.

Lilac has never been much of a couch snuggler.  I've seen her laying on the couch on a few rare occasions when nobody has been sitting there, but for the most part she's always preferred sleeping on the dog bed.  Since some of her tastes seem to be changing, however, we thought possibly she'd like resting on the couch if we just gave her a little encouragement. 

Mr. Taleteller stood up and came over to sit on the far end of the couch.  He called Lilac over.  She came right over, thinking she'd hit the jackpot with two scratchers in one place.  When she came over, he stood  and gently scooped her up, setting her on the couch.  I thought we'd see a look of radiant joy over our consideration, however, I was, once again, mistaken.  The look of outrage she gave Mr. Taleteller rivaled what any little old lady has ever given before she struck some hapless fool with her purse. 

We laughed, of course, which only resulted in more dirty looks directed Mr. Taleteller's way.  Like any female, she feels that when something goes wrong, it must be a man's fault.  She came over and leaned against me, still standing, and continued to glare at him.  He finally took pity on her and lifted her down and she stalked off to a dog bed, muttering something under her breath, no doubt.  Sometimes the best of intentions just don't go as planned, but can be funny to watch.  You'd have thought we tried to give her a bath or something!  I guess we know how that will go in the spring.  She stayed curled up on her dog bed for the rest of the afternoon and night.  I guess we'll wait for her to bark at us next time.

Just Tell Me What You Want

Well, I've started to notice a new trend here in our house. You may remember that Lilac has had a lot to say recently. Typically, her main reasons for barking at me are to get the prime piece of real estate that she wants (translation, the best dog bed) or to let us know that she needs to go out. However, she's taken on a new routine, typically on days when I am off work and here at home in the afternoon.

It begins innocently enough. I am sitting on the couch, watching television or working on the computer. Lilac walks up to me and give me The Stare. This is not the typical look of adoration a dog gives to her master. Oh no! This is a look heavy with expectation. Usually, it motivates me to look at the clock to see what routine she is expecting me to begin. A conversation generally ensues.

Me: It's not time to go out yet. What do you want?

Lilac (staring intently): I say different.

Me: I'm busy writing here. I think you'll be fine for another half hour.

Lilac (sighing): Well, it's your carpet, as you so often like to remind us!

Me: Don't you dare! Go lay down!

Lilac (walking in a circle by the door, sniffing intently): Did you say something?

Me: You do not have to go that bad! You were just out a couple of hours ago! What is it you really want?

Lilac: I'm STARVING! Take us out so we can eat!

Me: If you wouldn't be so finicky about eating in the morning, you wouldn't be hungry now.

Lilac: That was a long time ago! I'm old, dammit! Take me out and feed me!

Me: If I take you, I have to take everybody.

Hawk (leaping off the bed and running in circles): Oh yes! Take me! Take me! I've gotta pee RIGHT NOW!

Me: You planned it like this on purpose!

Lilac (licking her toes): Who me? Well, now that you mention it, I am obviously the brains of this operation...

Me: Both of you -- lay down! It's too early!

Bunny (jumping up to steal Lilac's toy from her mouth): Oh, it's the time of day when Lilac will play! Let's see who wins today!

Lilac (glaring at me while she fights for the rabbit): I will get you for this! Turn loose, whippersnapper!

Me: That should keep you busy until it's time to go out!

Blueberry (still asleep on her artfully fluffed bed): Zzzzzzz! Wake me when it's really time to go out!

So, Bunny entertains herself with Lilac for a short while. It doesn't take long for Lilac to wear out and she goes to the cushy foam bed and rests her old lady bones for a while. Time passes and I look at the clock. It's usually passed time for them to go out, so I stand up.

Me: Who has to go out?

Hawk (immediately leaping off his bed): Me! Me! Me!

Bunny (running over beside him): What's going on? Don't leave me out! Will there be petting?

Blueberry (cracking an eye open and lifting an ear): Are we really going out this time?

Me: Come on guys, let's go!

So, we get to the back door and I have three eager hounds with me. I call for Lilac. I begin attaching leashes to collars. I call for Lilac again. I open the back door and take three hounds out to the pens. I come back in the house. I call for Lilac. I walk into the kitchen. Lilac finally looks up at me from the cushy dog bed.

Me: Lilac, let's go! It's time to go outside so we can come in and eat!

Lilac (yawning): It's time to go out? Eh, I'm not really in the mood.

Me: You were all over my case a while ago! Now's the time!

Lilac (picking up her rabbit): I'll let you take me outside, but it's hot out there, and I'm not going to do anything...

Me: Yeah, yeah! Let's go.

So, we walk out to the pen, and she looks them both over. She looks up at me. I open a door and unclip her leash. She stands there. I grumble. Blueberry barks her displeasure over being outside for so long. Like mother, like daugher, I fear. I open the other pen door and she tiptoes in, like a dainty maid tiptoeing through the tulips. I come back in the house, get their food ready, and go back outside to bring them in.

Hawk beelines for his dinner bowl. Bunny heads for hers after sniffing to see what's in Blueberry's bowl first. Blueberry comes in, grabs a mouthful of food and takes it to a dog bed to eat it. Lilac walks in, does not even sniff the food, and finds her bed to lay down.

I'm not even sure that she knows what she wants at this point.

I want it NOW!

If you follow this blog regularly, you may recall that recently Lilac discovered she had something she wanted to tell me. It seems that now she's decided she has a lot to say. Not only does she feel the need to say it at 4:00 in the morning, or when another dog is laying on the bed that she decides she wants, now it seems that she just feels the need to tell us off over any random thing that offends her sensibilities.

It started innocently enough. Blueberry and Bunny didn't respect her aged old lady status, and she feels she needs a sufficiently soft place to rest her old bones. I quickly discovered what it was she wanted at that time. I'm not heartless, I do realize she needs a bit of coddling in her old age. Apparently, however, I did such a good job with her over the bed situation that she's decided she has a lot more to say. Several conversations from the last week or so come to mind.

Lilac: (one loud bark) Hey you! Human!

Me: Did you say something? What do you want?

Lilac: (bark, bark, roo) Isn't it obvious?! Get up and get me what I want!

Me: Look, there are empty dog beds, even the one that's your favorite. Why don't you lay down?

Lilac: (bark, stare) How can you be so dense? It's obvious!

Me: (looking confused, no doubt) You're going to have to help me out a little here. I'm pretty sure Timmy's not in the well. We don't have a Timmy or a well...

Lilac: (snort) I'm not getting any younger here, you know!

Me: Do you need to go outside?

Lilac: (sigh) I'd have peed on the floor by now if that were the problem.

Hawk: (leaping off his bed and turning in circles) I have to go! I have to go!

Me: We were just out! You're fine! I saw you go out there several times.

Hawk: I'm old! My prostrate feels like it has a watermelon sitting on it.

Lilac: (BARK) This is about me! Go lay down, old man!

Me: I already put your food down. Go in the kitchen and eat.

Lilac: (sigh) I ate already. How can you not see it?

Me: (standing and moving over to pet the agitated dog) What is the matter? There are no storms, you've been out, you've been fed, there are free dog beds, too. What else can you want?

Lilac: (scrunching up her eyes in contentment) Just keep petting me and I won't have to scold you anymore!

I love her, but it really is a guessing game figuring out what she wants. It could be access to the bedroom, food, a trip outside for a bathroom break, a toy or bed that she wants or anything else she takes into mind that she wants. No doubt in greyhoundese it sounds quite distinct, but to me the requests all sound the same -- like loud staccato barks! I'm trying to learn the language, but in the meantime, I am glad the old lady is still with us and in good health and spirits. It's perfectly fine with me if she does have a lot to say!

How May I Help You?

Yesterday something happened here that rarely occurs. Our greyounds are pretty typical of the breed in that they rarely bark. If someone comes in the door, there is about thirty seconds of fanfare before they go back to their respective napping places, well three of them do. Bunny will hold out until whoever had come in pets her. Alas, I digress. Yesterday afternoon, as I sat on the couch trying to get some writing done, Lilac stood on the other side of the coffee table and began to bark at me.

I was surprised. Lilac is not demanding at all. Sometimes she wants attention, but when she does, she simply walks up and buries her head against your chest. I had taken the dogs out an hour and a half earlier. They had been fed. It was an unusually cool summer day, so the temperature was comfortable. What else could she need?

Being the caring dog owner that I am, I got up and walked around the coffee table. She leaned against me, letting me know, as if I didn't already, that there was something she wanted. I petted her a little and leaned over close to her. We had a little conversation.

Me: Lilac, what's wrong?

Lilac: (barking meaningfully) Can't you tell?

Me: (whispering in her ear, lest the other dogs hear this part and start a riot) Do you have to go potty?

Lilac: (rolling her eyes and barking more insistantly) Of course not, I was just outside! How can you not see this?

Me: (looking around at the lay of the land) Oooooh! I think I get it!

Blueberry, in true diva fashion, had fluffed the two prime dog beds together so that she could lay her body on one bed and her head and front feet on the other. Hawk lay comfortably on the big orthopedic dog bed. Bunny was stretched out on the couch. Two small cushions lay unoccupied on the floor as a last resort.

Apparently, the cushions were not good enough for Lilac. There was a time when she would bark at Blueberry and Blue would instantly retreat to her crate. Now she simply ignores the scoldings of her mother. She closed her eyes and burrowed deeper into her nest of beds, pretending that she had no idea what Lilac wanted. Lilac barked at me again. I knew what I had to do. I oh so carefully pulled one bed from beneath Blueberry's front paws. She gave me a royal case of stinkeye when I did. I tossed the bed over to the side and fluffed it up a little. Lilac gave me a grateful look, then curled up on her bed, gave a little sigh and closed her eyes in contentment.

So who has who trained in this house, anyway?