Poop Patrol!

I really must remember to bring poop bags EVERY time Ray goes for a walk now. I can count on one hand (and have fingers left over) the number of times Ray has pooped outside of his own backyard. The other times I was lucky enough to have a bag in my pocket or found one the street nearby. Yesterday was not one of those times. 

We had walked up to the school for our morning training when all of a sudden Ray stopped dead and started doing the poop dance. I futilely groped around in my pocket for a poop bag and desperately looked around to see if there was a stray newspaper bag lying around somewhere. No luck. 

I took the ziplock sandwich-size baggie of dog treats out of my pocket and emptied them onto the sidewalk. I looked dubiously at the size of the bag in my hand and the growing mound of poop on the grass. Ray stepped aside and started to eat the treats off of the ground. I gingerly stepped up to the task. 

I guess I should have thought it through a bit better before starting. I should have turned the bag inside out. I now had a baggie full o steaming poop and I had no way of closing it. I daintily held it away from my person and we resumed our walk. 

We were a block from home when Ray got a wild hair. He started doing the spastic cannonball at the end of his leash. I was dodging and laughing and trying to hang onto the poop and keep it from being exploded by the cannonballs whizzing by. I was starting to sweat a little and it was 40 degrees outside. Just as quickly as it started, the fusillade stopped. We made it home without further incident. I found a larger bag for my smelly little packet and disposed of it with relief.

Training Update

Lately, I've been taking Ray to elementary school. Because he is so infatuated with eating little kids, I decided that the only way to get him past his obsession is to expose him to bunches of kids everyday. So, first thing in the morning, we take a walk to the local elementary at opening time. 

 I get Ray to sit and stay while a stream of small children, their parents, and strollers flow around us (he's really good at this part). The only problem is when one of the kids says, "Can I pet your dog?" When I reply in the affirmative, the kid gives Ray a pet and moves on. The problem is in the "moving on." The minute that the kid tries to leave, Ray lunges for their head to get in a quick lick or two or tries to grab their arm with his mouth. For some reason, he catches me off guard every single time he does it. I can't understand how he can go from docilely standing for a pet to full lunge in the blink of an eye. Obviously we need to work on this some more. 

Ray is really getting the hang of sitting and staying (except when there is another dog around). I think he will have this completely mastered by the end of the year (she says confidently, not really knowing what she's talking about). His flop is coming along fine, although a treat absolutely has to be involved for him to flop well. I use this command mostly when Ray is around really small kids and little dogs that are intimidated by him. He will lay (flop) and then roll on his side. If a little kid is involved then Ray will expose his belly for a belly rub, if it's a dog, he will just lay on his side and I usually have to hold him down while the dog comes up to him. Ray will then try to lick the dog's face to win them over. Works almost every time. 

The less we say about heeling the better. Ray is trying, I'll give him that. Our walks go something like this. Heel-3 steps. LUNGE. Heel-3 steps. LUNGE. Heel-5 steps. LUNGE. Heel. Stop dead. FULL REVERSE. Heel.  I really feel that progress is being made but it is a slow and painful process. The jury is out about whether or not Ray will ever be a heeler. However, he doesn't know it because I haven't told him, but I would be willing to settle for dog that just doesn't drag me around on the end of a leash.

What was THAT?

I was taking down the Halloween decorations. I had the front door open but hadn't yet replaced the screen, only the pet screen protector separated Ray from me. He was being whiny and kept putting his front feet on top of the mesh protector to see if there was an escape route that he hadn't fully explored yet. I was ignoring him (except for telling him that he was a whiny baby and petting him every ten minutes or so.)

I was in the driveway packing things up when I heard Ray's yell. He was in the house. Ray NEVER yells in the house (except for the first time he met Hugo, the first time he met Moonie, and the 4th of July). I dropped what I was doing and ran for front door.

Ray was in the living room. He was facing the sliding glass door. His necked was stretched out as far as it could go and his back legs were quaking in fear. I thought maybe it was Hugo. Ray was creeping forward a bit (now that he had backup), his legs were still trembling and he was snuffling under the end table, behind my wooden knitting box. I dropped to my knees and looked under the couch and table to see if there was a cat. Nothing.

When I stood up a small, brown bird flew up from somewhere and threw itself at the glass door. It was a wren. Ray yelled and retreated, his legs shaking, then crept forward again, his ears deployed in Dumbo the elephant mode to try to figure out what the heck was in his house. The wren landed behind the end table and hopped under the couch. I opened the sliding glass door and pulled Ray back a little. I got down on my hands and knees again and saw the tiny bird trying to make itself invisible under the couch. I told the bird that I had opened the door and it should probably leave before Ray started to feel brave. Then I stood back. (I have found that birds tend to understand exactly what you tell them, most people just don't take the time to explain things clearly to them.) The wren hopped out from under the couch and took off through the door. Ray pulled himself together and followed cautiously. I closed the door after him and returned to my work.

Halloween

Halloween is my favorite holiday. Gregg's too. We love giving out candy to kids and we love costumes. I like to decorate and Gregg likes to help out and to appreciate the decorations. I love watching kids run their hands through the candy, letting it drop through their fingers like it's gold and they're pirates. Now I have something else that I like about Halloween.

Y'know those people out there that dress their dogs in stupid clothes? I became one of them yesterday. I decorated my dog in a costume.

I've been giving a lot of thought to Ray and winter here. He has to be exercised because of his bum leg and I've been wondering how he's going to do in "weather." He's not really getting a winter coat and I saw him shivering when we had a cold spell a couple of weeks ago. So I decided Ray needed a raincoat. So I made him one. With a lining. While I was sewing it, I realized that the lining reminded me of a famous sleuth. Since the fasteners on the raincoat are velcro, the coat is essentially reversible. I put it on Ray and, like the chameleon he is, he immediately took on the characteristics of the sleuth. An hour or so later and I had a hat to match.

TA DA! Here he is --------- SHEERLUCK HOUND

Although he didn't try to rub it off or anything, Ray wasn't crazy about the hat so we just left it on for the photos. Then we walked across the street and up the block to do some trick or treating at Ray's friends' houses. He got biscuits.

Maddie as Spiderwoman

(He seemed to like the coat just fine, which was a good thing. It was pouring rain this morning so he got to try out the raincoat side - worked like a charm).

That evening, by the time trick or treating started, Ray was already in bed. The first time he heard a knock at the door, he jumped off the couch to see who it was. I clipped on his leash and Gregg distributed candy through the screenless door (we remove the screen from the storm door - it's a lot easier to give out candy that way). "Does anyone want to pet the blind dog," I asked? I held Ray's front legs up so that his head cleared the screen protector which was still in place. Ray got petted then returned to his spot on the couch. For the next hour, a knock would be heard, Ray would jump down, we'd clip on his leash, hand out candy, then ask if anyone wanted to pet the blind dog. Some kids would, some wouldn't. Every time, Ray would return to his place on the couch. After about an hour, every time he laid back down he'd give a groan. After an hour and a half, he'd think for a minute about whether he wanted to jump down and answer the door. After the second hour he decided he'd had enough. There was knock on the door. Ray raised his head, looked over his shoulder, groaned like an old man, put his head back down on his pillow and gave a deep sigh. He didn't move the rest of the evening.

Ray after getting back on the couch but hearing more

kids coming up the walkway. He knew he was going to have to get up again but he was really getting tired at this point.

Zombie Chipmunks

It was night. I went upstairs to change into my sweats. There was a dead chipmunk on the scatter rug outside of my bathroom. I screamed and went to get Gregg to see if he would be kind enough to dispose of it. He was.

The next afternoon I went into the backyard with Ray to check on the weather. He was sniffing delicately at something on the ground. It was a dead chipmunk with it's entrails trailing. I went inside and got a bag and some paper towels to take care of the corpse. I called Gregg.
"Where did you bury the chipmunk last night?" I asked (he insists on a proper burial for all dead things).
"It was over by the shed, but I'm not really sure where. It was pretty dark when I buried it," he replied.
I went to look for the tiny grave and, sure enough, it had been disturbed.

I called my BFF, Joanne.
"Hey," I said, "Are there zombie chipmunks?"
"Well," she replied, "There are zombie people, I don't know why there wouldn't be zombie chipmunks. Why do you ask?"
I explained the situation.
"Well, there's only one sure way to tell," she said, "Has it tried to eat your brains?"
"Not to my knowledge," I replied.

I'm not taking any chances though. Tonight I sleep with the light on.

I Wonder...

• ...if anyone has thought of inventing brackets for trashcans so that you can mount them on the wall like potted plants. Sure would save a lot of time.
• ...how many angora rabbits it would take to make a felted ball the size of a basketball. Ray loves the little felted cat toys that I bought at a fiber festival. He chews them like gum until I can catch him to take them away. They aren't exactly "balls" anymore. More like lentils.

Photos

No, my dog's not spoiled. Why do you ask?

A boy and his dog