Sophie has been a model citizen in the house. She had a few accidents in the first few weeks, but I took responsibility for them. Once I didn’t take her out before bed, another time after a nap. She has not chewed up any furniture legs, pillows or trash. She has shown extreme interest in my dirty socks, carrying one around the house form time to time. She reluctantly gives it up when told to ‘drop it’.
I currently live in a rental. The house had new everything, including carpet, when I moved in. The carpet is a cream color. Who in their right mind installs cream carpet and then rents to people who have dogs? I stressed over the carpet for the better part of the past year. Then I quit making myself crazy knowing that the carpet could be cleaned. I still lay down towels when it rains and vacuum almost every day. But, I’m not fixated on the carpet like I used to be. Then sweet Sophie comes along.
Sophie’s manners have been exquisite… until last night. Ever since she pulled a Houdini and escaped from the wire crate one evening she has been sleeping in my bedroom. Last night I got out of bed to check the back door and didn’t close the bedroom door completely when I returned. Big mistake.
I thought the dark spot in the middle of the living room floor was a leaf. When I tried to pick it up, it didn’t move. Still not understanding, I brushed at it thinking it was the spot left over from her having chewed something there. Then I saw the mangled ink pen a few feet away. My stomach dropped and I felt ill. Why couldn’t she have chewed up a table, or an expensive piece of clothing instead of an ink pen on the cream carpet?
For the uninitiated out there, take my advise. DO NOT attempt to clean up an ink spot on carpet. It spreads like you would not believe. So now instead of a spot that’s about the size of a dime, there is a blue schmear (what seems to be) the size of Texas across the living room floor.
If anyone out there knows any tips or tricks to getting an ink stain out of carpet, please contact me right away!
Nuts for Mutts is a dog show for mixed breed dogs. The categories are fun things like “Best Tail Wagger”, “Best Smile”, “Best Dressed”, “Best Eyes”. I saw a program of the event a few years ago on Animal Planet. This year I had the opportunity to attend.
I decided to take just one dog and that would be Sophie. There was no doubt that I could not yet handle both dogs in such a situation. Sophie needed the opportunity for socialization. And, I didn’t want to leave her alone for several hours. Not yet. She is still a baby. Being alone for that long would feel like abandonment. Whereas, Jasper would be just fine being alone for a few hours.
Sophie jumped out of the car barking. To an empty parking lot. Everything startled her. Nothing startled her. This was going to be a baptism by fire. Full contact socialization. We had to walk about about half a mile to the entrance. By the time I got our tickets and went inside, she had calmed down significantly. Still pulling on the leash a bit, but no longer barking.
Since I didn’t know how long each of us would last, I went straight for the Doggy DNA testing booth. Sophie’s heritage is a mystery, but only for a few more weeks. I’ll let you know when the test results come back. If you’d like to have your dog tested, you can go here: Dog DNA Breed Testing
The event itself was great. It was well thought out for the comfort and care of all attendees. There were lots of water bowls and wading pools and several grassy areas that were canopied for shade. The exhibitors had healthy treats for their customers, candy for the rest of us. I didn’t get around to all of the exhibits, but the ones I visited were interesting. In addition to the DNA testing, there was an animal communicator, a company that trains dogs so they can audition for the movies, a booth that had magnetic pet jewelry, pet aromatherapy, and of course, lots of adoption opportunities. Fortunately I was not moved to ‘just look’. None of the dogs there were in danger like the ones I’d adopted.
I bought a travel water bowl that has a snap on lid and an attachment that allows it to sit in a cup holder. Perfect for the back seat. I also got a thingy that holds a bottle of water, a compact collapsible water bowl and a pocket for a cell phone. Perfect for walks. I picked up samples of treats, taking some for Jasper, too.
I talked to a lot of the vendors, telling them about the dog blog, asking if I could mention them by name. They all enthusiastically said “Yes!”. So, in the next post, I’ll let you know about some people I met at Nuts for Mutts.
Sophie and I had a wonderful day. It was great to watch her move into a better place mentally. It was great to spend the day with her. We both went home ‘dog tired’. Once home, she got up on my lap and promptly fell asleep, just like a toddler who’s played all day. Jasper lay on the floor right next to us. He’d had a good day too. He had it to himself, not being bothered by a silly puppy.
It’s been about 2 and 1/2 weeks since Sophie came to live with me and Jasper. In just the past few days we’ve finally settled in together. It’s been interesting to observe the transition.
Jasper was appalled that another dog was in his house. He wanted nothing to do with her for quite a while. Sophie would try to engage him in play and he’d grumble at her and walk away. A few times, though, he’d start playing, then remember he was supposed to be mad.
And, he stayed scarce. Instead of being in the house with me during the day, he’d stay outside. Under a bush or something. I told Sophie he was outside eating worms. Remember that song? “Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, think I’ll eat some worms”. Jasper was the epitome of self-imposed suffering. He didn’t want tummy rubs, grudgingly ate his dinner.
Now, that’s a funny story… he was used to being a picky eater, eating slowly, walking away from the bowl, coming back to it whenever he wanted. No more. Sophie is like a vacuum! I’ve never seen man or beast eat so fast! And there’s no bottom to her. I feed her outside (in the patio-dining option we have here). The first few days she’d race back in and head straight for the J-Man’s bowl which he’d temporarily abandoned. She thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Two complete meals in under three minutes! Jasper now takes mealtime seriously. Who says the survival instinct has been bred out of modern dogs? Not me!
Last night they played and played and played in the backyard, chasing each other, trading toys. It was great to see them together. They’ve pretty much got it worked out. Sophie knows when Jasper really and truly wants to be left alone. (I think the gnashing teeth and neck bite finally convinced her he was serious.) Jasper seems to have accepted that she’s here to stay so he may as well lighten up and enjoy the ride.
As for me, I’ve settled in, too. I was very concerned about being able to physically handle a healthy, good-sized pup. I’ve now decided that I can (she’s is so easy). I’ve gotten over the guilt trip I was on about bringing another dog into Jasper’s sphere and hurting his feelings.
Their personalities are so different. Sophie is effervescent. Jasper is curmudgeonly. She has become my shadow. Jasper has become, well, he’s become much more attentive to me. Isn’t that interesting?
Two days before Mother’s Day Michael called me. He had found a female Boxer-mix puppy roaming in the desert behind his place. He couldn’t keep two dogs (against the rules of the place he lives), so he wanted to know if I wanted her. He knows my penchant for Boxers, but the main reason he thought of me was because he knew I wanted a dog that loves me. And this little girl was a lover.
Why I always say I’m “just going to take a look” is beyond me. I guess it’s my way of justifying getting another dog. Once I ‘look’, how can I resist? The reality is that I can resist, but I don’t, nor do I want to. After Mother’s Day brunch with my family I drove 200 miles out to Michael’s place to ‘take a look’ at this puppy.
I wasn’t in the market for a dog, I certainly didn’t need another mouth to feed. My arthritic knees did not want a puppy to take care of. However, I believe there are no coincidences in life. The fact that Michael actually took this pup into his care, that it was a boxer-mix and that she fit the bill for so many characteristics that I wanted were all signs that this was likely my dog. I am grateful that the universe doesn’t send more signs my way.
She was wiggly, mouthy, had no manners whatsoever, jumped on me, and growled and barked at anything that moved. Best of all, she truly was a lover. She probably would have loved anyone, but there was no doubt that she loved me. She was perfect.
Jasper was thrilled to have a new playmate. For about 15 minutes. That’s when he realized that she wasn’t leaving. He was not happy. Sophie has been with us for almost two weeks. Jasper is just now tolerating her. As of today, he is finally ’speaking’ to me again.
Until about 6 months ago people would ask me what kind of dog Jasper is, and I’d reply, “Only God knows”, or “All-American”. Then, I stumbled on to a web site that had photos of adult Soft-Coated Wheaton Terriers. The resemblance was amazing.
The magazine, The Bark (http://www.thebark.com/) had a short advertising blurb about a DNA test that could be done on dogs. It was targeted to mix breed pets. It was not the kind of test for pure bred dogs to verify parentage and fancy stuff like that. I sent away for a test kit for Jasper. Here’s where you can get one, too: Dog DNA Breed Testing
Even though all that I had to do was brush his gums with the little brush supplied for the test, I didn’t do it right away. The kit sat on my nightstand for a couple of months. Then Michael and Onyx came to visit.
My friend Michael is an engineer. He is an engineer right down to his bone marrow. For those of you who have an engineer in your life, nothing else needs to be said. For those of you who don’t have an engineer of your very own, here’s a little background.
Engineers like details. Lot of them. They never get tired of details. If there are none, they go looking for them. Details are to be analyzed, dissected, and understood. They need to be pondered upon and categorized. Everything in the engineer’s universe has a name and a place, it can be weighed and measured and quantified. And if any of these factors aren’t readily present and in order, that has to be corrected. Immediately.
Mixed breed dogs, especially those rescued ‘off the street’, are often not quantifiable. They are made up of lots of details, sometimes too many to sort out. Even for an engineer.
When Michael and Onyx came to visit us last fall, he asked if I could help him find the woman who rescued Onyx. He wanted to know more details about where she was found, how they had found her, etc. I contacted the vet’s office where the woman worked, but no one knew her. It had been about a year and a half since we had gotten Onyx, so it was no surprise that she was no longer there.
What better gift to give an engineer for his birthday than DNA test results on his mixed breed rescue dog? Folks, I don’t think it can get any better than that!
So, before they left for home, I brushed Onyx’s gums and sealed the brush in the return envelope provided by the company. I told Michael I wanted a photo of them before they took off. He thought I was being sentimental, but I really wanted it to put on the certificate they were going to send him with Onyx’s breed information. The photo I took is the one in the previous post below.
The test comes back with several ‘degrees’ of breed recognition. If one of the parents was a pure breed, the results will give the breed. If there is a significant amount of a specific breed, like maybe one of the parents had a pure bred parent, the test will show that breed as a ’secondary’ breed. Then if there are any other identifiable breeds, the certificate shows them under “in the mix”.
Sweet little Onyx is Italian Greyhound, with Golden Retriever in the mix. Her body shape is that of a greyhound-type dog, but she weighs about 40 pounds.
When Michael received the certificate, he called and asked if this was a joke or if it was for real. Too funny! I can certainly understand why he thought it might be a joke. I mean, testing a dog’s DNA for its breed mix is not too well-known.
If you think about it, though, it makes a lot of sense to have it done. If your rescue dog is a mix that has a breed that has known health problems that can be prevented, wouldn’t it be great to know that right away? Or if she needs large breed food, or if she’s has a strong herding breed in her, can you see how knowing that would help you to be a better caretaker? If you would like to get your dogs tested, here’s where you can get the test kit and all the information, including the list of 100 identifiable breeds: Dog DNA Breed Testing
Jasper and I live in Thousand Oaks, CA. There are many interesting aspects of this community but the one that captures me most is the presence of livestock. This is a city, a suburb of Los Angeles, for crying out loud. It’s true that this area was once home to several movie ‘ranches’, that there are large commercial farms nearby. But to walk just a few doors down and come across horses in the yard is strange. And, there are lots of horses in this neighborhood. The homes around here are not what one would think of as ‘horse property’. We’re not talking acreage here. This is a fairly dense residential area. The homes have a generous backyard, two car garage, ample parking for an RV… or for a horse. I’m pretty sure there’s not room for both.
Jasper has a strong prey drive. It’s not by choice, it’s the terrier in him. He whines and whimpers and acts like he’s lost his mind when he sees a cat. The squirrels have learned to taunt him, dancing back and forth on the telephone wires once they know they have his attention. The crows fly from pole to tree to pole causing him to jump up in the air and flop, twisting and turning, yipping all the while. Poor Jasper can’t stand little moving creatures. He experiences temporary insanity in their presence.
Recently a rooster can be heard crowing in the morning. It’s not far away either, it’s on a property adjacent to ours. I imagine some of the neighbors find it annoying, but I like it. His morning serenade (if crowing can be called that) seems to round out the country atmosphere of Thousand Oaks.
No doubt that most people reading this won’t think of a chicken as livestock. I think that term is typically used for animals with hooves. However, us city-dwellers consider anything that’s not a pet and can be dinner to be livestock. And, it’s my understanding that where there are roosters, there will be chickens. This morning Planet Jasper was invaded by a chicken.
As you may know, chickens don’t fly, but brother can they run! Jasper is very fast, but this chicken out maneuvered him like nobody’s business. The chicken had the advantage of utilizing ground cover and shrubbery for brief diversions, but it did not have a safe place to hide. Jasper had the thing in his mouth a few times. Gawd what a racket! I think the sqwaking is what saved it. Caught the J-Man so off guard that he dropped it just to see what he’d had in his mouth.
We have a large backyard. I hadn’t thought of that as being a disadvantage until today. It’s a lot of territory to cover chasing a dog that’s chasing a chicken that’s running for its life. They cut and ran from one end of the place to the other like lightening. Jasper, running, delirious, making his excited baby noises, the chicken screaming and flapping it’s wings, and staying just a breath ahead of the dog. Well, mostly ahead. Like I said, Jasper got her a few times but promptly let her go.
I will never know why or how, but after about five minutes of hysteria there was a perfect moment when time stood still; the chicken was quiet, the dog stopped and was miraculously within my reach. In hindsight I wish I’d thought to make him lie down right there in the presence of the prey for a lesson in submission, but I was so damned relieved to have caught him, and that he didn’t kill the bird, that I just walked him into the house.
Before I let Jasper out a few hours later, I checked the yard thoroughly, looking everywhere I thought a chicken might hole up, or die of fright. She was nowhere to be found. I suppose she was able to go the same way she came. Quietly over the fence.
So much has happened in our lives over the past two years since we last visited with you. We have so many new stories!
Number one rescue dog, Jasper, and I are living on our own. Actually, he still lets me live with him. Not that much has changed! Onyx now lives with Michael. They came to visit a few months ago, stayed for about a month. Michael took care of the dogs while I went to Kentucky to visit my son, then I took care of them while Michael went to visit his parents. It was a wonderful arrangement for everyone except Jasper. It seems that he prefers being an only child. What a surprise.
Here’s a photo of Michael and Onyx taken last fall. They are so happy! They rescued each other. You can click on the photo to enlarge it.
It took a few days for the dogs to settle in to their new environment. I knew the corner had been turned when Jasper didn’t growl or bark at the fella sweeping the sidewalk in front of the hotel on our morning walk. People can now get into and out of their cars right outside our window (we’re on the first floor) and he looks at me before he does anything. This afternoon when housekeeping knocked on the door, he looked at me and when I didn’t say “quiet”, Jasper let ‘er rip. Just a few barks, but enough to let the person on the other side of the door know there was a dog in the room. With so many learning situations presented, he got the hang of it. I am so proud of him! Knowing when to bark and when not to is an invaluable skill. For dogs, too.
Onyx, on the other hand, has become quite the little pistol. Since Jasper is not barking at every noise and everyone, she’s taken up the torch. Not consistently, you understand. Just when she feels like it. The Princess of the Known World can’t be bothered with such nonsense as remembering stuff.
And she has become quite naughty. This morning she chewed up the corner of the blanket on the bed. Why, I asked, would she do that when she owns all the toys in the room? There is no answer other than she can. So she did.
We went for a ride this afternoon and she stretched out full length in the back seat leaving no room for Jasper. I tried to scooch her over to one side and it was like she was velcroed to the seat. Right now she is coyly trotting back and forth across the room with her prized chew bone in her mouth, waiting for Jasper to take the bait. He swings his head from side to side following her every move, lays down, trying to look nonchalant. Here’s a photo of Herself.
It’s hard to get past her beauty, her elegance, to see the little devil that lives inside.
I am delighted to say that the three of us have become quite the synchronized team when we’re taking a walk. For the first few days we looked like a sledding team without the sled. Onyx would stand under Jasper to see what he was doing when he was marking the plants, then he would see something of interest and jump over her back, step on her leash and she’d stumble. He wanted to charge ahead just when Onyx wanted to stop to pee. The leashes would get all tangled up with me in them. Oh, and remember that the first few days Jasper was barking and growling at anything that moved. I’m sure we were quite the sight. Now we look like we’ve been doing this all our lives. Extraordinary walkers, that’s us.
Jasper got his name from a rock. As you can see in the photo below he was golden brown with a spray of black on his overcoat. (Click on the photo.) I didn’t think he was a very good-looking puppy, as puppies go, so he would need a nice name. Since his coat looked so much like one of my favorite stones, picture jasper, that’s what I would name him.
Looking back at this photo, taken the first night I had him, I can’t imagine why I didn’t think he was the most adorable puppy on the planet, but I didn’t. Maybe it was that smell thing he had going on. Or perhaps it was his complete disregard for me. From the moment I brought him into the house he acted as though I was someone who lived in his house and was there to take care of him.
He gave me no love, no cuddles, no sweetness. He was demanding and distant. He bit me, scratched me, walked between my legs tripping me up, he didn’t want to sit on my lap and was generally incorrigible. And he loved men. He went nuts over the pool man, the mail man, the gardener. It was embarrassing. My rescue dog could care less if I lived or died.
I became determined to understand him. Terrier being the only identifiable part of him, I bought a generic book on terriers. Never having been owned by one before, I thought perhaps there was something terriers specifically needed that I didn’t know to provide. The book did not provide any answers to that question, however I did learn that their self-assured arrogance is genetically hard-wired. Self-confidence is a positive trait. However, it’s my opinion that one can be confident without being aloof. This puppy was both and I didn’t much care for his attitude. I wanted to be loved, appreciated! I saved this dog from a terrible fate and I wanted to at least be liked.
As I came to know him, I found Jasper to be a very complex personality. His love is subtle, but evident. When I leave the house he sleeps on my bed which is near the front of the house so he can hear my car come into the driveway. I was away for a week recently. When I returned, he was so excited that he forgot he was Mr. Cool and licked my face all over and made funny little sounds of happiness. I adore this dog and in his own way he adores me right back. Life is good.
Jasper, Onyx and I are traveling. Sort of. We’re no longer mobile, having landed for an extended stay in a Best Western hotel about 100 miles from home. I’m here to work on getting back into shape after knee surgery.
The dogs haven’t had the benefit of travel or socialization in their short lives (Jasper is 13 months old, Onyx is 6 months). About six weeks after Jasper came to live with me the meniscus in my right knee tore while I was walking him one evening. Several months later I had surgery on both knees. Two months after the surgery Onyx came along. Because of the painful condition of my knees for the better part of a year I’ve been unable to take them to classes, dog parks, or even for walks. My health and physical condition are now rapidly improving. Not only am I looking forward to being more active with the dogs, they are my inspiration for continuing to work so hard to get well.
Jasper is off his game here on the road. Poor guy didn’t know there are different rules for different places. At home it’s okay to bark when someone approaches our property. Here it’s not. If he sees someone ‘lurking’ around at home, it’s okay to growl and carry on. Here, it’s not. If he’s outside at home at 1:00 in the morning and he sees or hears a ‘bad man’, it’s a-okay with me that he cuts loose with a blood curdling war cry. When he hears someone outside our hotel room window at 1:00 in the morning and lets loose with that 100 decible bark to sound the alarm of imminent danger, I do not have the same appreciation for his hard-wired gift of protection.
Now that he has claimed the hotel and grounds for his own, no one and no thing escapes his diligent eyes and ears . He growls and barks at children, men, women, cars, the security guard, the housekeeping and maintenance staff, other dogs, and voices coming from the parking lot. At home he is rewarded for being a good protector. Here I tell him to be quiet for the very same reasons I reward him at home. My son was kind of screwed up for a while so I’m really hoping to get it right with the dog.
Onyx is pretty much a wash & wear dog. As long as her rank and status of Princess of the Known World is respected, she’s good to go. Being Princess means she gets to settle in the back seat of the car first, taking her half out of the middle. It also means that she can take all of the special chew toys I’ve given both of them here at the hotel and stash them under an end table in the farthest corner possible where no human or male dog can ever get them. And it’s okay to parade around the room with one of them in her mouth to show just how good it is to be Princess.
I am hoping that as we have more experience traveling together Jasper will come to understand that different places have different rules. Of course, there are no rules for the Princess of the Known World other than to oversee her subjects with grace and parity.
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