Sweet fit

Someone sent us a perfectly fitted red Outward Hound raincoat. Spike, not impressed one way or the other, tolerates the protection. I appreciate cutting down on wet-dirty-stinky dog hair, too. Instead of paying a fortune for dog coats to warm our recently groomed Spike, I cut leg slits into a fleece blanket ($3.99 at Grocery Outlet). Spike loves the added protection and puts his legs up to fit the fleece before we go for walks.

Plus he's awfully cute in fleecy black and white! People stop us all the time to remark on his little coat and how nice he looks. He ignores them, but I like to hear it.

We went to the dog park at Marymoor today, working on dog socialization. Spike's taken to growling at men the last 3 weeks, and rumbles at other dogs sometimes. A dog tried to bite him (both leashed, on our neighborhood walk = a friendly exploration gone wrong.) The other owner said her full-sized mutt had been attacked in the last week. He was dominating and unfriendly to Spike. We got out of reach in a hurry. Sooo, now we're working hard on eliminating undesirable domination stuff in Spikester.

Lots of room to run at Marymoor. LOTS of dogs to sniff and chase. Spike was herded by a little Maltese mix, and stood up to tell a Great Dane he was irritated with his attention. Funny, and friendly.

Seriously cute!

watch these dogs go!

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/home_blog/2010/10/ok-go-white-knuckles-ikea.html

Car ride

It must be confusing to be a dog. The owner straps you into a backpack, puts you in the car where you can peek over the top of the restraints, rides you around for a while, then takes you out, and you are back home.

Or, like today, the owner straps you in, puts you in the car..., gets out and puts your backpack into a shopping cart at Dunn Lumber, and rides you around for a while. People swarm the crate, pet you on the head, and coo at you.

If you're really lucky, you get some Mexican food scraps after doing your business in the back of a parking lot, too. Then you ride around for a while, the owner takes you out, and you are back home.

"What just happened here?" asks Spike. "Though I prefer this to staying home in my crate."

What he doesn't know is we'll do it all again tomorrow. I'll give him a bath first thing, let him dry, and then he''s off to Petco for a haircut!

Doggie heaven

My office door is closed, my dissertation files are up. I'm ready to work.

Except that Spike the dog, watching me drink Jasmine tea and eat toasted rye bread, is doing tricks. He gets up on his hind legs and spins. Sits behind me and barks. Jumps onto the desk by the window and lies down, looking at me in anticipation. Lying down is often enough to get a taste of what I'm eating.

No results? No compassion in my eyes? He leaps off the desk and throws his front paws on my legs. He's persistent, I'll give him that.

Now he's distracting me from the task at hand. Spike is cute. And I skipped our three-mile morning walk because I couldn't make it up the hill from house to the stop sign at the end of the street because of an early morning torture session at the XGym. (Oh yeah, it's that intense.)

I throw him the heel of bread. He crunches it with great satisfaction. "It worked! It worked! She fed me."

Sometimes when I pray, I feel like I'm doing Spike-tricks to get God's favor. Maybe he'll satisfy my wants if I am good. Maybe he'll finally intervene in this problem if I do a few extra deeds of kindness. If I keep praying the same prayer, maybe he'll finally take notice.

Oh oh... let's get one thing straight! Our life of faith in Christ is not built on repetition, rules, or getting it right. It's a relationship with a Master who knows what we need and how to build his Kingdom in good times and bad.

The other kind of religion, of begging and chores? That probably only gets us a taste of doggie heaven, with acknowledgment and a few treats from other people, if we're lucky.

And a PS - a friend calls, "Wanna go for a walk?" Of course we do. So Spikey gets that treat too.

Good dog!

Yesterday Spike spooked at everything driving by. Busses, trucks, little Volkswagens. It didn't seem to matter what size the vehicle, he scooted behind me, tripped me by running in front, or tried to hide.

"Yikes, what's the matter with you?" I scolded as I unwrapped the leash around my legs again. "C'mon Spikey, it's ok!"

Finally, I stopped and waited as cars approached. Kept him beside me. Let him shiver until they were past.

About the tenth car, he quit watching. Settled down. Stopped worrying. What it took was the experience of nothing happening.

That works for me in real life too. When I'm anxious, if I can slow down, maybe even stop to look around and analyze what's happening, I feel better.

Our walk this morning was uneventful. He didn't flinch once. "Good dog, Spike!"

The energy of youth

I don't remember having the energy young Spike has, bouncing up and down our stairs. Fetching. Running.

He just spent an hour on the 40' leash, chasing flies in the courtyard, barking up our 150' driveway, getting tangled up in ivy when he checks out the flowerbed.

He's on the hunt for the squeaky toy I tossed over the railing. Spike keeps coming upstairs empty-mouthed. His nose helps him find me when I hide behind doors. He's pretty good at rooting out what he's looking for, so I'm going to keep him tracking until he finds it.

"Where is it? Go find!" He's been looking for fifteen minutes and keeps coming into my office to see if it has magically appeared. Nope. He pants off the heat, and off he goes again.

Tonight we'll take him for a slow run on the Walky Dog. We have to pick up some books at the neighborhood library. Afterward I bet he sleeps like a pup!

Toys and stuff

Spike got a shave at Petco, so naturally we had to check out the clearance section. I found a second harness ($2) and a few collars ($1.20 each). What I needed - leashes and a raincoat - were still outside my budget.

Spike's doing well at learning not to pee at every corner. Tug tug on the leash. From his excited sniffs, other dogs obviously hadn't been as disciplined. He scratched and rubbed himself all over when we got home. Probably itchy from his cut and getting used to his hair length = short.

He gets excited when I pull out the carrier and buckle it into the car. He hops onto the passenger seat, puts front paws on my arm to be scooped up, doesn't mind hind legs held as I fold him into the bucket, and doesn't squirm when I fasten a collar through the loops that hold him in.

When we drive, he loves to look out the window or he turns to me for a pat on the head. Good doggy!

Home at last

Spike is happy to be home, and happy to see me.

I'm so thankful for Spike's great care while we were in Asia for 5 weeks. Thanks to Rachel and my daughter-in-love Melissa for pampering him.

Yesterday we took our first walk through the neighborhood together. It was one tug after another. Spike's inclined to run ahead and pull. He's been indulged while I've been gone, but sorry doggie... I'm back!

Tonight, after strictness yesterday and the morning walk, Spike was walking almost beside me. I had decided that when I got back from summer travels, Spikey would become a "GREAT" dog... good manners, no jumping on people, barking only on command, playing fetch and doing tricks when asked. He's on his way today, aided by a piece of sardine and tiny chunks of beef brisket (smoked for yesterday's lunch by my husband). This dog is food-driven and will do anything for a good treat.

I'm glad to be back, glad to have my dog around, and having fun! Can't imagine what I was missing before Spike came to live with us :-)

missing Spikey!

Aaaaaaaaaaaah, I miss my dog. Spike did fine with Rachel, according to her updates, and Jono is picking him up tomorrow to bring him home.

But I want to see Spikey and have him around, especially seeing everyone walking their dogs in Singapore. A few more weeks and we'll be home. YAY Can't wait to see his face. I go to the posts and look at his photos. Not the same as having his warm fuzzy body walking around my legs.

Spike baby!

We dropped Spike off this morning at Rachel's. She's going to mind him for a few weeks. Thanks, young lady! You can catch up with him and Rachel, whose cat is about to drop kittens, at http://aloveofittys.blogspot.com. Thanks, Rachel.

Race for the crate

When I got Spike, Teri warned me that he would go into his crate reluctantly, and be great once he was in. "You have to give him a push to get him in sometimes," she admitted.

Tonight I had to laugh. "Wanna go to bed?" I said aloud, unclipping the long leash that lets Spike roam the courtyard.

He barely let me help with "wipe your feet" on the entry rug before he belted his way into the kitchen, stood in front of his crate, and waited eagerly for me to open the door. He jumped in the minute the door swung aside, backing up to the far end so I would get out of his way.

Of course, I had put some drops of sardine oil on a few dry dog food pieces before I sent him outside. He's no dummy. There's always food of some sort waiting in the crate, even if it's just an Omega-3 fish oil capsule. From reluctant to racer.

Proving again, every owner trains their dog for their own priorities.

Weekend!

We're back to dog smell. We've gone from Petco perfume to "au doggie." It's a relief. No pet should stink of artificial flowers.

After the yoga class Saturday, I took Spike to a new dog park. There are fences around 'natural' areas of trees and ferns. The dogs roam and run the cedar bark trails together. It's at least a coupla acres, so they have a good time. Rubbing shoulders with the big dogs quickly restored the fur scent!

When we got home after the park, Spike ran around the yard madly, getting the long leash wrapped up in shrubs (oh, the suffering of our little boxwoods as he barges between the trunks). He loves the bird food that drops under the cage because it has egg in it - but looks so guilty when I tell him to "leave it."

Spike is apparently not intimidated by any dog. He enjoyed playing with the bigger dogs. He ran around with them more and faster than he does with the little guys in the small dog park. Don't know if it's because he thinks he's a big animal (despite his size.) He was 1/3 the height of the next smallest dog.

"Did you wash him on warm and dry him on hot?" asked our son when he saw how tiny Spike looked today.

Close shave

I've been clipping Spike's face and feet, but today he got a close shave at Petco. I couldn't believe it was the same dog... he lost a size or two along with 2" of hair. The lion tip of his tail is gone - he looks like a miniature version of a lab.

All day, Spike's been scooting along the floor, putting the horrible perfume of the groomer on the rugs. Ugh. Dogs are not meant to smell like cheap teenage cologne! His ears are short short short, in spite of the "short summer clip all over, but leave his ear tips long." Oh well, the groomer was busy, and I was delighted to have his toenails clipped, teeth cleaned, and face shaved.

We went for a walk to show him off, and got lots of smiles. It's back to the red harness: without neck hair, the collar can slip over his ears.

Mighty hunter... not

We started the day with a three mile bike ride. We stopped twice to talk to people walking their big dogs. "Oooooh, that would be so handy," each exclaimed when they saw Spike running alongside. "Isn't he too little? We hope you put him in the basket sometimes," said one. Well, Spike loves the run or trot, and hates the basket, which he rides down our gravel driveway. I try to keep his paws relatively clean after the run on the streets and a turn on the park lawns.

Today was mostly the adventure of mouse-hunting again. None have been caught in the traps inside the benches, although there are "signs" of them being around. Spike has developed to a fine art getting the yard leash tangled in the legs of benches, porch supports, and shrubbery. When he's ready to come in (usually not for 20-30 minutes), he's wrapped around a post. Or...his 40' leash is tied down to 5-10'.

I grip his collar so he doesn't gallop away, unclip his lead, and begin to unwind it. I'm amazed at how much mileage he gets out of a romp in the front yard. As far as I know, he's still under the illusion that he's a mighty hunter. I keep watching his "dooty" for signs of success at catching a mouse, and am always relieved when he's hopeless as a hunter. Pretty soon the mice will be used to him and let him follow them home. HA HA

Last bitter pill to swallow

We're done! The last quarter-pill has disappeared down an eager throat. It's not that the medicine, prescribed by the vet for Spike's ears, is tasty. But dip it in peanut butter, stick on a few pieces of dried dog food, and YUM YUM. Down it goes!

Spike had a busy day outside in the courtyard, on his leash chasing mice. We are being overrun with mice, probably getting fat from feasting on the birdseed dropping from the finch cage. Ugh. I even found droppings in our old car.

The traps are set, then sprung without results. I may have to resort to poison in the woods where they nest. Spike can't get there because of the 4' concrete wall around the courtyard. Luckily, his leash is too short to go around the wall into the trees. It would be a final bitter pill for the rodents, to harm rather than heal (like Spikey's).

Haircut day

Oh, this dog has hair. And it grows. Constantly. We've worked out a deal. He holds still enough for some progress in cutting feet or face hair, and I give him a piece of dry dog food (sample pack from PetSmart). It only takes 2-3 pieces for him to catch on that, while it is unpleasant, it's not the end of the world.

End result? he can see out of his cute eyes again, and he looks more like a puppy than ever. As for me, I'm tired and ready for a novel or movie.

Just a squeaky shoe

Spike's kept busy for almost an hour, finding the squeaky shoe. He will keep looking until he finds it - I've thrown it into closets, under foam bedding and desks, over the rail into the living room below, and he always works until he has it. Then he brings it back and sits happily in front of me.

Then he barks as I squeak it so he can fetch it again. What a hoot. And what good exercise - up the stairs, down, run around, run back... he's amazing. And exhausted. He throws himself down for a snooze.

Spin the doggie

It's another lamb-on-dry day for Spikey. (More lamb juice on his regular food). He fairly sprang into the crate to have his lunch.

He's a very tired pooch from all the activity yesterday... so he's been resting most of the day. Mind you, he got into the toybox this morning and was piling one Beanie Baby after another in a corner of the dining room rug. He he. I had to remind him they all belong to me, and he just gets to play with them.

He did get a lot of treats for "find" and "fetch" and is doing well on his invention = a doozy: "Spin!" He was leaping up for a treat ("dance" = walk on hind legs) and happened to turn around. So we did it a few times with a command. For pieces of lamb, of course.

Now, when he's desperate to be noticed, he waits until I am watching, gets on his hind legs, and spins. From his doggy brain: "C'mon. You should be trained by now. What kind of a dog friend are you? I did the trick, now hand over the treats. I mean it!" (upon which he adds another spin if necessary.)

Doggy park

After a 3 mile jog this morning, we had lamb for lunch. And that means juice on the dry food for Spike. He waited impatiently for me to finish making our lunch so I could get his to the crate. No sense in wasting peace and quiet; nice to have no one looking soulfully at us at the dinner table, so he usually eats in his crate while we're eating. Doesn't seem to mind, either.

We went to the small dog park after a quick post-lunch snooze. Between 5 and 10 dogs there at a time, people coming and going. Some people visit the park every day with their dogs. We've been twice, but will go again. It was breezy, the wind twinning the sunshine for pleasant temperatures.

It's interesting to see the temperament of dogs. Some dogs are cuddlers and stay near their owners. Others chase each other around, bounce off the edges, and bound through the grasses. Spike is not so much a runner. He's not a cuddler - once he knows where I am, he'll stroll by occasionally but not pay me too much attention. But he pees on every bush. Twice. And hangs out on the fringes of the pack. He doesn't get rowdy or excited, but is curious and aloof. Doesn't mind the whole sniffing thing, as long as no one puts a paw on his shoulder. "Back off, Buster!" says his body language.

He let me know when he was done. Walked over and stood in front of me until l asked, "Want to go for a walk?" He walked around the park with me, not leaving until I clipped on the leash and walked back to the car with him. He showed no interest in any dogs on our way out.

When we got home, he disappeared into the kennel on the porch for an hour to chew the lamb bone. He especially loves the joint - it disappears completely. The raccoons will be by tonight to get what he left (not much). His breath is sweet, unlike the smelly doggy breath after dry dog food.

He's worn out - sleeping beside me as I type. Won't be long and he can sleep in his own bed and I in mine. I love Sundays, a day of rest. What a good God - who else would have thought of how to make his creations rest, rather than work harder!

Fly, baby, fly

"Where is it?! Find!" That's the signal for finding stuff. Spike's getting good at crawling over and under all kinds of place to find the new squeaky toys. He's persistent, and always gets a reward for nosing out a toy. Sometimes it takes 5 or 10 minutes, but he works until he can bring it back.

Today a big fat fly has gotten into my office. It is buzzing around. We probably could have skipped our 3 mile bike ride this afternoon. Spike rushes around the room madly, trying to catch it. He goes so fast he pushes his step-stool to the desk under and skids rather than getting up. I have to reposition the seat, and up he jumps. Then down. Then around. From one window to the other.

The fly is crazy-making. Spike almost snaps it up when it lands on a low file cabinet, but it gets away just in time. I think about swatting it and just getting rid of the droning buzz, but he's having too much fun.  And getting a lot of exercise in the process. Whatever's inside him, this cute little mutt is built to hunt.

He whines as the fly rests. "Fly, baby, fly! And I'll be right there..." It zooms into the room, and he launches himself in another attempt as it cruises by.