My Dogs Are Too Darned Popular

This is not a post about how Bunny now has more friends than I do on Facebook, although that has recently happened.  Today's post is about our visit to the dog park on Saturday night.  It was a problem that I haven't encountered before, and I'm still scratching my head over it a bit.

Saturday turned out to be a pretty toasty day, so we waited until after dinner to take the girls to the dog park to burn off some steam.  As we walked into the gate leading into the second gate, we saw that there was a young German Shepherd puppy and a Pit Bull puppy playing with some people inside the dog park.  Morgan was in heaven, barking and wagging her plume of a tail in anticipation of a rousing game of chase me and bitey face. 

However, as we were about to enter the park, two teenaged girls approached and grabbed the Pit Bull puppy.  That's not terribly unusual, a lot of people will pull back their dogs so others can enter.  The Shepherd's owner called her back, too.  As we walked in, though, the girls began gushing over Bunny and Blueberry.  We've gotten used to people fussing over them, too, and that's okay.  I know that people have questions about them and a certain fascination.  I let the girls both go and the two teens were both very insistent on petting them.  Usually the girls will just walk off, though, and ignore people when they've had enough of their attentions like the true little princesses they are.

The usual small talk ensued as the girls began to make their way around the park.  The teenagers were accompanied by their parents and the Shepherd had an older couple there with her.  We were asked their names and I told them.  No sooner had the girls learned their names then they began really pursuing all three of our dogs.  Calling their names and running around the park after them.

Certainly, they weren't hurting the dogs.  Their mother joked "I'm not sure if the girls are wearing the dogs out or the dogs are wearing the girls out."  I just thought, "We came here so the dogs could play with other dogs, not be pestered by annoying children."  Despite the fact that I thought that, I did not say that.  I wanted to, but I didn't.  I just felt like, the girls seemed like they were old enough that they ought to have known better and if they didn't, perhaps the parents should have put leashes on them. 

I'm still at a loss as to how to respond to the situation.  If someone had an aggressive dog that had bothered mine, I wouldn't have hesistated to tell them to call their dog off, and most likely would would have left.  It wasn't a situation where the dogs were in danger, it was just interfering with their and our enjoyment of the dog park experience.  I've met other kids there who were very pleasant and fun to be around, but these two were not. 

On a positive note, after they left I saw our best Bunny and Morgan moment to date.  Bunny walked through the trees and laid down under a tree like a crouching lion.  She stared at Morgan and Morgan stood staring back at her.  After a few minutes of stare down, Bunny leaped up in the air, ran straight at Morgan and then veered off, leading Morgan into a nice game of chase, and Morgan managed to play this round without putting any parts of Bunny in her mouth.  The game and the evening ended on a high note, with three tails wagging.  My only regret is that it was too dark to get a picture of the event!

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!

Age and Wisdom Meets Youth and Beauty

A year ago when Bunny came to join our family, I was a bit surprised by her reaction to Lilac. Lilac is the oldest hound here in our house, and she was a brood mama to two litters of puppies. Usually, when she meets young dogs, she gives them a bit of discipline (one deep, serious bark, and I have no idea what she says in that one bark, but the youngsters always take it seriously) and then goes on her way, ignoring the young dog. She tends to avoid puppies and young dogs, perhaps because she feels she is done with that sort of nonsense now.


Of course, as soon as Bunny came here, she made herself completely at home. She made her introductions to Lilac and Hawk and after a tour of her new castle, the little princess needed a place to lay down. She looked around at the various dog beds scattered across the floor and decided to lay right next to Lilac on the big orthopedic dog bed. My husband was shocked. I was shocked. Lilac was stunned. Another dog was laying down next to her?! She didn't growl or curl up a lip, but she did make a departure from that particular bed after a period of polite tolerance.

Lilac has never gotten after Bunny, save for an unfortunate incident where Bunny didn't see her foot and stepped on it in passing. She hasn't encouraged Bunny to be close to her either, though. Hawk took her under his wing for a little bit, playing with her before he just got too worn out to keep up with her and letting her follow him about. Blueberry ignored her completely, although I suspect that she was playing with her in secret, just not when we could see her sink to such a low. However, it was Lilac that Bunny really wanted an in with.

She tried joining in when Lilac would pounce on a toy. This always resulted in Lilac dropping the game and going to lay down. Bunny would try pouncing on it again to try to get her interested, but it was always a no go.

Bunny continued to try to lay down next to Lilac on the dog bed. Lilac obviously did not know what to make of it. I suspect their conversations were brief.

Bunny: Oh, you're laying on this big, cushy bed again!

Lilac: Yes, yes I am! It's good for my old bones.

Bunny: I'm really small! I'll just curl up over here on this side.

Lilac: You know, there's another bed that nobody's using over there...

Bunny: Yes, and there's nobody there to snuggle with!

Lilac: Exactly! And this bed was made for stretching out... Hey, what are you doing?

Bunny: I'm getting comfy!

Lilac: (sigh) I'll just go stretch out over there then.

Bunny: Two hounds can fit on this bed!

Lilac: Nevertheless...

One thing that Lilac has always done since we brought her here is pick up a toy (usually a Mother Bunny bunny or tribble), shake it and then try to carry it outside. Over the years we've had many arguments about whether or not she needs to bring her bunny outside. Heaven forbid that we interrupt this ritual, however! Everyone in our house knows that Lilac has to at least bring it to the back door. Bunny saw this as a divine opportunity.

So, one day as Lilac grabbed her bunny and started to get ready to go outside, Bunny ran over and grabbed the other side, starting a game of tug of war. Lilac was so stunned that she lost her rabbit! Bunny pranced around the room victoriously. She had won. It wasn't the stuffed bunny that she wanted, though, it was Lilac's attention. Since that day, Bunny often tries to get Lilac to play before we go outside. However, for Lilac, it isn't playing. She growls ferociously at Bunny, who dances around her with the other side of the rabbit in her mouth. It's no contest, really. She can always take the bunny from Lilac, but I discouraged her. It seems a bit too much to ask of the old lady dog to let the puppy win.

Surprisingly, Bunny seems to have realized it on her own as well. Recently, I've noticed that she doesn't try to take the bunny from Lilac, but instead wages a brief race to pick the bunny up. I'm pretty sure she lets Lilac win. And, in return, Lilac seems to have decided to tolerate having Bunny close to her. It seems like a fair compromise.