Furry Frustrations

It’s amazing how much you can love your dogs a ridiculous amount and yet still feel the urge to strangle them.

I imagine that parents often feel the same way towards their children. I am aware that my furry little beasts aren’t quite on the level of responsibility that having a child might be but it’s the closest I’ve ever come.

Being a pet parents is still new to me. Sure, I’ve had my dogs over a year now but as with any living creature, each day is a whole new learning experience.

Take, for example, the simple but amazingly complicated puzzle that is food. My dogs don’t to eat dog food at home. I’ve tried different brands but most of the time, they eat begrudgingly and clearly don’t like what they’re being offered. What’s annoying is that I gave one of the bags of food my girls wouldn’t touch to my parents because their dogs DO eat the brand.

Imagine my frustration when my girls went straight to the food bowl at my parents’ house and started chowing down on the very food they turned their nose up at home.

In my attempts to get them to eat on a regular schedule and eat healthy but tasty food, I’ve resorted to buying canned food. I’m not a fan of canned food. It makes their, uh, poop smell bad and, also, it’s just not that appealing. However, there are some good, holistic brands out there. We’ve tried most of them. Rory, for example, loves chicken, blueberries, sweet potato dog treats and peas. So, I found the perfect can of food- it was chicken with blueberries, sweet potato and peas.

Would she eat it? No. Of course not. Why would she? It was DOG food. My dogs don’t like dog food unless it’s not me providing it to them.

Sookie is a little less fussy and deigned to politely put some in her mouth but she glared at me the whole time she was chewing and when she finally swallowed, her stare said, “seriously? You really expect me to eat more of that?”

I imagine this was not altogether different from the way my mother would feel when she’d put a plate of dinner in front of me and I’d complain, pick at it but not eat very much because I ‘didn’t like it.’ Then, I’d go to my granny’s, have a very similar plate of food put in front of me and I’d devour the whole thing AND ask for more.

Sorry, mum. I know I can only relate on a canine level but…I’m sorry for being so picky as a child.

I have discovered that if I leave the food down long enough, they will eat it out of hunger but I do wish they had a little more enthusiasm. We did find one food that they both loved. It was another holistic brand that was for ‘high energy’ dogs. They loved it and licked the plate clean afterwards. So, excited, I went to Petsmart to buy more.

Guess what? The bloody manufacturer had discontinued that particular line of foods. Needless to say, when the pet store employee told me that, he tried to recommend other, similar brands. My girls didn’t like any of them. We’re still trying new flavours and brands. The nice thing about dog food is there are a lot of varieties to try. I just avoid ones with bad things like corn, corn products and animal by-products because, well, that just sounds bad.

In addition to our food battles, my dogs also cannot be trusted to be left alone. Last night, for example, they were happily playing outside, chasing each other and staring into the fabled sewer grate. So, silly me, I thought it might be ok to take a shower.

I’m take fairly fast showers. I didn’t think it would be a problem for the 12 minutes it takes me to disrobe, shower and get dressed again.

So, imagine my exasperation and alarm when I’m just rinsing my hair and I hear Sookie’s ‘panic’ bark.

I’ve learned to recognize this ‘panic’ bark. I’ve experienced it more than several times when Rory has pulled her Houdini act and found a way out of the back yard and is running around near the street while Sookie barks with alarm. I’ve also experienced it when Rory finds the most miniscule hole at my parents’ house and runs off to explore the great wide beyond of the soybean field next door while Sookie barks with alarm.

Thus, I can distinguish the difference between Sookie’s, “SQUIRREL! MUST EAT SQUIRREL” bark, her “you’re annoying the crap out of me, Rory,” bark, her “I’m cute so come and get me bark,” and her “PANIC! RORY’S DOING SOMETHING BAD! PANIC! PANIC!” bark.

Rory has her own series of barks too, primarily distinguished by her “I’m bored, play with me,” bark, the “why are you petting her and not me,” yip and the, “Sookie, dude, I’m outside, why aren’t you,” bark.

However, it’s Sookie’s Panic bark I’ve come to dread. When I heard it last night in the shower, my heart sunk. I immediately washed all the soap off, turned off the water, grabbed a towel and rushed to the window to see what was happening. Sookie was waiting for me with an expression I recognized on her face: Rory was Up to No Good.

Rory is often Up to No Good. It usually involves paddling in my parent’s fish pond, discovering holes in fences, digging in inappropriate places, getting covered with mud by rolling in it or doing other things she shouldn’t be doing. Sookie can be a little naughty but Rory is usually the one who is Up to No Good.

Last night was no exception. Sookie’s worried expression and Panic bark were duly merited: Rory was running around in the Dog Whisperer’s yard.

I grabbed the nearest clothes which didn’t necessarily match, threw them on, grabbed a coat and put on my wellington boots. Needless to say, I probably looked a little like a bag lady or an eccentric English woman who wanders around saying “Would you like a cup of tea dearie?” while wearing a pot of daisies on her head.

I didn’t have a pot of daisies on my head, in case you were wondering.

When I went outside, Rory wagged her tail enthusiastically. Sookie Panic barked again. In my bag-lady get up with soaking wet hair, I realized that to retrieve Rory, I would have to go all the way through the house and out the front door because I had chains and padlocks on the gates due to Rory’s last Up to No Good escape attempt.

Dog Whisperer and his family were not home. I thusly claimed Rory by cracking open his gate, catching her before she could slide by and bringing her inside. Naturally, she got told off. She knew she’d been Up to No Good because for the rest of the evening, she looked at me with flattened ears and big, sorrowful eyes.

It’s hard to stay angry at such a pathetic creature but I was quite furious. I had to spend a good 20 minutes finding creative but foolproof ways to make the fence secure because she’d found a vulnerability where the chain link didn’t quite meet the ground and she’d burrowed under it. I’ve since ordered tent stakes to make sure the fence can’t be lifted up. Hopefully, when they’re installed, I’ll feel a little more relaxed. For now, I’m going to be paranoid every time I let the dogs outside and I can’t see them immediately from the window. They will not be allowed unsupervised outside for long periods of time and I will not leave them out when I take a shower.

The sad part is that since they’re dogs, not children, they won’t completely understand their punishment. I think Rory is smart enough to have deduced that Playing in Dog Whisperer’s Yard=Mummy is very angry but I don’t know if it’s enough to stop future escape attempts. I do know that as soon as I see Rory is not in the yard, my Code Red Alert button goes off in my brain and I start to panic that something bad will happen. My anger with them is as much from fear as from frustration. It shows how much the silly little creatures mean to me, I suppose. It’s just not good for the stress level.

Being a parent is hard. Even when your ‘kids’ have fur and four legs. Kids or dogs, they can still make you so angry you want to throttle them.

Even when you’re hugging them to you in relief that they’re safe.

Happy Thursday!

Sounds of Suburbia...

Oh, the sounds of a surburban neighbourhood. Birds chirping, music pumping, squirrels squawking and...

...oh yes, barking. I'm currently listening to an orchestra of dog yips. Well, orchestra is a wee bit poetic. Not unless it's one of those orchestras where someone plays the saw, someone else plays a pickle-tub drum and someone else is attempting to play the trumpet without knowing how. Needless to say, it's a horrible sound.

Yes, the Dog Whisperer's beasts are at it again. Sadly, this week, we don't even get a break at lunchtime. Apparently, because Son of Dog Whisperer is done with school, it seems that his parents are rotating schedules to stay home. This means the beasts aren't crated and are free to run out at lunch and yip at my puppies who HAVE been crated and merely want to do their business and have a short time outside before I have to re-crate them.

Still, there are other sounds I can hear. The squirrels, for example. They do, in fact, squawk. Well, actually, it's more like they click. It's a peculiar thing but they go up in the tree and click at us, sounding like they're trying to spit. It's a weird sound but it happens rather a lot. Also, the squirrels seem to not be as agile as you'd expect squirrels to be. We've now witnessed several of them trying to play trapeze in the trees but wildly swinging instead, missing the branches and falling several levels below before finally getting a grip. It makes a weird rustling sound, sort of like you'd see on Lost when the smoke monster was approaching. If you didn't watch Lost, you're probably not sure what that sounds like. It sounds like trees rustling.

Naturally, there's the sound of lawnmowers too. I mowed tonight too. It was a bad night to pick. It's humid again and I think another storm is on the way. This is the kind of humidity that leaves you sweating and lightheaded after you've only mowed a little. Still, the lawn is mowed for now. It grows so quickly, I'm constantly amazed. The grass and the weeds grow quickly, my plants don't. I'm not sure how that works.

The puppies are ok with the lawnmower. They're still terrified of the hoover but they don't mind the mower. They like to lie down in my path and then scurry away as I approach. They've taken to digging holes in the lawn now. I think it's because they can smell bunny. The rabbit who used to live under my toolshed rather likes to taunt my puppies. He lays down right where Rory's favourite hole-digging spot is and waits until the puppies come out. Then he lets them get a couple of feet away and then he runs. He's fast and I don't think the puppies will ever catch him. I'm also amazed at how he seems to get through a solid fence with no holes. That baffles me at my parents' house too. They have rabbits and they're always running through the fence but I can never figure out how they get out.

Nevertheless, until the bunny starts eating my swiss chard or squash, he's welcome. He's an ok sort of pest. I'm constantly thankful that we only have furry squirrels and bunnies to worry about. My good friend, Ms. P, lives in Texas and has a dog named Burt who is part dachshund, part chihuahua. He's a lovely little thing. He got bit by a copperhead snake two days ago. He's going to be ok thanks to a trip to the animal ER but I can only imagine how scary it was. We have some rather large worms in our backyard but, thankfully, no snakes. I'm hoping Burt makes a speedy recovery.

Ah, there, finally, the dogs next door have stopped yipping. And yes, they WERE barking the entire time I've been blogging. Welcome to our life. I've given up on the privacy fence. Given that the dogs bark at any noise or movement, I have a feeling it wouldn't do very much anyway. On the plus side, Larry-the-potential-serial-killer has volunteered to raise a secret neighbourhood campaign to get the police involved. I'm not sure I'm ready for such drastic action but it's nice to have an ally. The thing is, I like the Dog Whisperer's wife and Son of Dog Whisperer is a little odd but he seems like a nice kid. I want to like the Dog Whisperer himself but he's sort of, uh, well...hard to like. I think it's his blatant ignoring of his yippy dogs combined with his desperate attempts to lure my dogs to the fence. Sookie barks at him. She doesn't bark at anyone else like that- not Possibly-Joe, not Larry-the-potential-serial-killer or Wife of Dog Whisperer. It's just him. Then again, sometimes I'd like to bark at him so I can't blame her.

If you can't beat them, join them...right?

Happy Friday!

Oh, for a Privacy Fence!

It's almost the weekend. At least, this is what I keep telling myself. Today, I had to crate the puppies. I've been an irresponsible pet-owner and allowed them to run free in the kitchen/family room area, restricted by a gate. Today, I put them in a crate and kept them there until I could come home for lunch and for good, in the evening.

I felt horrible. All morning, I kept imagining scenario's in which the cage collapsed, in which they killed each other, in which they tried to fight their way out until their paws were bloody.

When I came home from work at lunch, panicked at what I'd find...they appeared to be fine. While slightly stiff and rather sleepy, my puppies didn't seem to mind that I'd shut them up in a crate, that they couldn't run around as they were accustomed to doing.

Even so, I still feel like a bad mother/pet owner.

I'm blogging about the puppies again, a fact for which I apologize. I think it's because that's what my life is all about at the moment. They need constant attention. We're still working on the housebreaking thing which is made far more difficult when the neighbour lets out his army of yappers every time one of them gets ready to do her business.

I keep complaining about the neighbour. I think it's because he annoys the crap out of me. It's always him who goes out to the dogs, never his wife. And he doesn't go out and shout at them. He goes out and tries to, seriously, talk sweetly to them. Unfortunately, they're so noisy, they can't hear him.

The, inevitably, he scoops the noisiest dog up and holds her over the fence. He wants the puppies to get to know her, you see. Well, my puppies have sniffed her but she growled at them and scared them. Now, they just want to go off and play.

It used to be me in the puppies' position. When I'd go out pre-puppies, it was ME that got barked at, ME who had to go pet the blasted dog so the dog whisperer would go inside.

Still, I have someone coming to do an estimate on the fence today. We'll see how it goes. It's going to be worth it just to be able to go out without getting barked at quite so much.

In the meantime, we're playing rounds of, "Are the yappers out there? They're n0t, let's go!"

At least the puppies keep life from being boring!