Naughty Puppy Weekends...

It seems that, no matter how long the weekend, the weekend is never long enough.

I had big plans for this weekend. I left work a little early on Friday so I could hit the road with the puppies and The Interloper to head back to my parents before the traffic got too bad.

Apparently everyone else had the same idea. By the time we arrived, it was only a little sooner than we normally would have if I'd stayed at work all afternoon.

Nevertheless, it was still nice to get there. My parents are still in the UK so I was not only returning the Odious One to his home but also doing a spot of house sitting for the weekend. Since my parents don't get back until Tuesday, my sister is going to take care of Odie until they get back.

I had big plans for house sitting. I planned on having lunch with a friend on Saturday and then my sister and I were going to check out the very first 'fine dining' restaurant in my parent's town. It just opened. Given that my sister is now obsessed with Top Chef and I'm obsessed with food, we had decided to go see how really fine this dining was. It's a new restaurant, owned and operated by someone with whom my sister went to school. He trained in New York and is operating a 'big city restaurant with a small town feel' or something like that. His concept is farm to table which is very popular in big city restaurants. I think that's a fine concept...

...it's just, well, my parents live in Northern Indiana. In January when the ground is a frozen tundra, farm to table might be a wee bit of a hard concept to execute without having access to a big city selection of fresh produce suppliers. I salute the concept but am curious to see how it's executed.

It turned out that our dining plans were in vain, anyway. Even though the restaurant boasts "Walk In's welcome," we were turned away because there was a large party being hosted there and they were "full." Since it's only been open about two weeks and it was a Saturday night before 6 p.m. in a town who isn't used to "fine dining," we were a little perturbed. In addition, unlike most big city restaurants, this one does not politely post a menu on the window or outside so potential diners can, at least, see if it's worth making a reservation for the future or trying to 'walk in' on another night. Also, the website for a restaurant is not up and running. Perhaps I've watched too many Restaurant Wars on Top Chef but so far, this restaurant is not exactly winning me over. Since we weren't the only rejectees, we didn't feel so bad.

My sister and I ended up at a bar and grill type place in town. It was a nice evening in the end. It's rare when my sister and I get to hang out and we had a nice time grousing about being rejected from the other place.

Of course, no day is without stress. This weekend turned out to be quite stressful with the puppies.

Prior to my lunch on Saturday, I had gone to figure out where to put the puppies' crate for when I went out. I happened to glance out the window and saw little Rory running around in the farmer's field next to my parent's house. Given that my parents have a very large, very fenced-in portion of the yard set aside for the dogs and given that the farmer's field was not part of this area, I was a little alarmed. My parents live on a main highway. I think I've mentioned I've seen more than one dog get hit on that road. Needless to say, I flew into overprotective pet-parent mode and managed to coax Rory towards me by running out to her and bringing her inside to inspect for escape routes.

I thought I found it. Turns out, I had found one of them. There was another one I missed. Two more escapes later and I finally succeeded in stopping Rory from going AWOL again. I don't think she wanted to run away. I think she was just tracking the scent of all the wildlife that finds its way onto my parents' rural property.

Even though I got the fence fixed, it was still a bit of a worry for a while as to whether I really had managed to secure the fence.

It turned out I had. By Sunday morning, I stopped worrying.

I spent Sunday outside in the beautiful autumn-like day, writing on my little netbook. It was lovely. I took a break in the afternoon and went for a walk around my parent's large yard. I returned to the dogs' area and I heard the girls playing with a squeaky toy. "Funny," I thought. "I don't remember them bringing a squeaky toy that looked like that."

Turns out, it wasn't a squeaky toy. It was a very newborn baby bunny. They had found a nest. I managed to rescue the poor thing from the mouth of Sookie. I found somewhere out of the puppies' reach and I made a quick makeshift nest while I went to deal with the dogs. I hadn't thought about there being more.

There were more. Six more to be exact. Each time I rescued one, there was another waiting to be hunted by the puppies. I don't think they actually meant to kill them. Only one baby was bleeding and it was clear that it wasn't going to make it. The others were just carried gently in the puppies mouths as they showed each other their prize. I managed to rescue six of the seven.

I made their makeshift burrow cosy but I had a dreaded feeling they weren't going to make it. I made my brother, when he visited, come and look with me a few hours later. Miraculously, they were all alive.

In the end, my sister decided she would try to take them home and feed them with a dropper in hopes that they lived. However, I did some reading on the internet and discovered that while the intentions to save them were good, it was very unlikely, given their really young age, that they'd make it more than a day.

We decided to try to relocate them to a spot close to their old warren but out of the reach of the puppies. The best hope was that their mother would find them and adapt to the new location. The internet said that the scent of humans wouldn't bother them and the best hope to keep them alive was for their mother to keep taking care of them.

As of this afternoon, they were still alive. There were small signs that, perhaps, the mother came back last night. I'm hoping she's found them and will be ok with their new home. They were so tiny.

I was mad at the puppies for a while. It was hard seeing them hunt such tiny creatures. I know that's what they do; it's the dachshund nature. Yet it was still difficult to carry those tiny, pathetic, newborn creatures in the palm of my hand and not know if they would make it.

I'm hoping that they do. My sister is going to check on them. I'm hoping for the best.

Today, fortunately, the only puppy problems I had was Rory discovering the frogs in my parent's pond and trying to jump in the pond after them. She got her tummy wet but, fortunately, refrained from diving all the way in.

All in all, the weekend was not nearly the relaxing retreat I had in mind. Still, I got a lot of writing done, I rescued some baby bunnies (I hope) and I got to have some good company. I'd say, overall, that wasn't a bad way to spend three days.

Although next time, I think I'd rather it remained bunny-free.

Happy Tuesday!

Fast-Flying Weeks...

It's Thursday tomorrow. Somehow, the midpoint of the week passed by without me really noticing it. It's not even that it's been an eventful week; it's more that the week has just gone by quickly.

It's not been a bad week. My new strategy with the Dog Whisperer- the previous bane of my existence- is...to ignore him. I can hear you say it now, "well, duh, isn't that obvious?" It probably is but not to an overprotective pet parent like me. I used to worry that my girls were disturbing the 'hood, that their cute little yipping was going to drive his dogs to a heart attack.

These days, I'm not so bothered. I leave my back door open. That way, Rory and Sookie can go out if they need to which, 98% of the time, they do. It's great for house-breaking. Unfortunately, 75% of the time, the puppies go out, the Dog Whisperer lets his beasts out.

As you've read...I used to care. Now, I don't. Unless I can hear Rory or Sookie yapping or causing mayhem, I tend to let them run. When I look out, it seems like my puppies are running up and down the fence on our side, tormenting the Dog Whisperer's beasts. Those beasts continue to bark loudly. My girls are quiet; they're just running. The way I now look at it is that if anyone in the neighbourhood is going to complain, they're going to complain about the barking. And whose dogs are barking?

Yup...not mine. Thus, my new strategy is to let my puppies out whenever they want to go. If the Dog Whisperer's beasts are out, so be it. It isn't my fault that they can't control their rat terriers.

I'm also contemplating not building the privacy fence but, instead, doing some landscaping to block out the neighbours. I think it'd be cheaper and, also, I adore landscaping. I'm thinking if I convert some of the lawn that I hate mowing to garden and flower beds, not only can I plant trees and shrubs that block out the Dog Whisperer's house but, also, I get to have fun.

It's all in the pipeline of my mind, right now. I think on it when I have a chance. At work, those chances are rare. I've learned that the best way to deal with my boss is to tell him what I'm going to do, rather than ask him. As a rather bossy, overly control-freak-esque personality, this shouldn't be surprising revelation. However, given the fact that he's usually incapable of making any decision that's more important than where he's going for lunch which, by the way, is sometimes far more difficult than you'd imagine, it's quite a shock that my declaration of what I plan on doing is met with a hiding-the-enthusisam, "ok!"

So, I'm busy at work. When I get a free moment, it's usually around lunch during which time, I pump up the Muse music and try to make it home in as few traffic lights as possible in order to release the puppies from their crate.

I like our lunch hours, even though crating the puppies back up on a beautiful spring day feels a little like I'm a jailer. I'd like to let them run free but I don't quite trust them...not yet. Give them a couple of weeks and...maybe.

This weekend, I plan on spending as much time with the puppies as possible. I also intend to work in the garden. If the Dog Whisperer's dogs are out and yappy, I intend to ignore them.

If not, a coworker lent me this device called 'Dog Trainer' which emits a sound that is really high and really loud and, conveniently, only perceptible to the ear of a dog. I've tried it on the dog who lives on the 'good' neighbour's side. This dog has a tendency to bark. However, two pushes of the button of the 'Dog Trainer' and that little doggie is quiet as a mouse. I'm hoping it doesn't hurt them but, instead, teaches them to be quiet.

If the Dog Whisperer's beasts misbehave, I think I'll give it a go. I don't think that qualifies as animal cruelty...right? I prefert to think it as a "Prevention of Cruelty to Humans" type of device..it controls that which could be rendered cruel to our ears- i.e. Super yappy dogs that don't shut up even when you shout at them.

I think, for now, I'll keep the device in my pocket. If it makes them stop barking...I win. And, if not, perhaps the Dog Whisperer will keep his routine of letting them inside when he gets annoyed with the yapping. Since I don't intend to herd Rory and Sookie inside anymore....I win..again.

I think we call that a win-win situation. Hurrah!

Happy Thursday!

The Joys of Spring and Easter...

Happy (belated) Easter to you all!

I didn't even mention Easter in my blog last week. I think I was so incensed with the Dog Whisperer that I let him get in the way of my love of Easter. Fortunately, the puppies and I spent the weekend with my parents so we didn't have to deal with him any more. I'm quite glad about that. I also spent some time with my dad, estimating the cost of a privacy fence. He did offer to come help and while I'm really hoping he follows through, sometimes, with my dad, you have to wait a really long time until he's ready.

Even so, I know that if I can get help building the fence myself, it's going to cost way less than if I hired someone so maybe that, alone, is worth the wait.

It's always nice to spend a weekend with my parents, especially Easter. Since I had Friday off work, the puppies and I headed to Indiana on Friday morning. We couldn't have asked for lovlier driving weather. It was a warm spring day. I passed so many hosts of golden daffodils swaying in the breeze that Wordsworth would have been proud. When we got home, the puppies got to frolic in my parent's large fenced-in garden and I got to spend time with my mum and dad.

Saturday was not quite so warm though. It was actually very English in its very nature. One minute, it would be sunny with blue skies and the next, the rain clouds had rolled in, the wind cooler and then, suddenly, it's pouring with rain. It was definitely an April Showers sort of day.

And then, today, came Easter and another lovely Spring day. Our drive back home was just as pretty as the drive to my parents. It seems so strange that just a little over a month ago, the roads were frozen and snowy. Actually, when I was mowing my lawn the other night, I actually did stop and marvel at the fact that not so long ago, I was shovelling the driveway, piling up onto the four-foot snowdrifts that marked the sides of the driveway. Now, not too many weeks later, I'm mowing the grass in the exact spot.

It's a strange thing but I think that's one of the reasons I love Spring. As I've said before, one of the things I missed most during my California days was the change of the seasons. While winter is cooler and wetter, there's no dramatic reawakening of the world the way there is here in the Midwest. Here, you see the trees go from resplendent Autumn colours to bare structures, fighting the winter wind. And then, suddenly, little dots of green begin to appear and Spring officially begins to arrive, greening up absolutely everything, brightening the world more each day.

It's so nice to see the little Japanese cherry tree that I planted last Autumn blossoming with white flowers. It's lovely and I managed to keep it alive. It's like a strange sense of completion. I've now been in my house during Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring. Even though it's a few more months before I can say I've been a homeowner for a year, I finally feel like a homeowner. It's my house. Sookie and Rory probably helped like that- helped it feel more like a home. Yet, still, now when I mow my grass, I do so because I want it to look nice, not because it's what I'm supposed to do. I go to Lowe's and Home Depot and I don't think, "ooh, I could now buy stuff because I have a house!", I think, "Cool. I see things I'd like but what do I actually need?"

Of course, aside from repair stuff, I don't really need anything but it's nice to look and see what I'd like to add to the house.

Though I think the first thing definitely has to be that privacy fence.

Happy Monday and Happy Spring!

The Fear of Virtual becoming Actual...At Least When it Comes to Puppies...

As far as work is concerned, tomorrow is my "Friday." I'm taking the actual Friday off so I can go and pick up Sookie, my future-puppy. Once I pick up Sookie, I will no longer be able to refer to her as future-puppy. Instead, she will become actual-puppy.

I'm nervous about 'actual-puppy'. Actual puppy means...I have a real puppy. I'm responsible for another little life. It's strange how nervous I actually am about the whole thing. I've never been a single-mother to a pet before. I've only ever had family pets, never one of my own.

Well, actually, that might be a fib. I did have a small fish tank once. I managed to accidentally kill 27 goldfish, guppies and neons within the space of three weeks. In addition, I also killed two frogs.

In my defense, the frogs and several of the fish weren't my fault. My fish tank came as a kit and the heater was faulty. I set it according to the directions but it malfunctioned and, essentially, boiled the water in the fish tank. I felt rather bad about that. I still feel rather bad about it, actually.

The rest of the fish, well, I might have overfed some of them. After that, I have no idea. When I first started my fish collection, I named them after Andrew Lloyd Webber musical characters. Yes, as stated MANY times in this blog, I was a nerd. I still am a nerd, thank you very much, (although my Andrew Lloyd Webber obsession has faded to a fond nostalgia except when it comes to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat which I still love. And, at any given time, Jesus Christ Superstar still resonates with me.) Anyways, after the first dozen...or two...fish died, I stopped naming them.

I realized I was not a good fish-mama.

Since then, I've shied away from pets. I always like dogs more than cats although for some unknown reason, other people's cats seem to like me. Well, maybe except for my good friend's cat, Godzilla, who does not like me at all. This might be because I tend to tease her. In my defense, she's not the friendliest sort of cat. Even so, she does deign to sit on my head in the night while I'm sleeping, whenever I go to visit so I suppose that's some sort of peace agreement.

Yet, as for pets of my own, I've been a petless wonder for many a year. I had planned on Sausage coming to live with me but, as aforementioned, that never came to pass and the slight guilt of it will probably never leave me. He was just too old, too set in his ways and too Sausage-like to adapt to new circumstances.

So, you can see why I'm a little nervous about my future-puppy who is soon to become actual-puppy. I'm sure she'll be cute but, well, puppies aren't just cute. They're like babies who need love, attention and good parenting. What if I'm not a good pet parent? I've checked my garden for holes in the fence and possible escape routes. I found one under a gate which, when Sookie grows won't be a problem but, in her puppy-sized world might as well be an open door to the world. I plan on fixing that but I'm afraid I've missed something. Under my tool shed there's a bunny nest. I know this because I frequently leave carrot tops and parsley for the rabbit in my garden and he, inevitably, comes out in the evenings and sits in front of my tool shed, eating his dinner. Dachshunds hunt bunnies. The gap under my tool shed might be enough that Sookie might go under it to hunt for bunnies.

I suppose this is normal, right? The inevitable "what if.." panic that sets in with every new responsibility. I can't even imagine what it must be like to have a child. I only have the virtual, future-puppy of my imagination and I'm already flummoxed.

What if she doesn't like me? What if she finds a magic hole that helps her escape? What if I'm a bad pet owner?

I know, I know...I should probably hold off stressing until future-puppy actually becomes actual-puppy.

Yet time is running out and I'm very nervous. It's natural...right?

Happy Thursday!