GoD an DoG

Someone sent me the link to this video and I thought it was sweet. Enjoy. ( you might actually want to look at this one on youtube. Seems the blog format cuts off a bit.)

Ray Makes a Discovery

I was taking Ray to "school" on the way to work but had to swing by the post office to mail my mother's day present. The P.O. wasn't open yet but I knew I could use the automated teller and be in and out in five minutes. I opened up the car widows and the sun roof, told Ray to "stay" and zipped into the post office.

When I came back out, Ray was curled up in the drivers seat, ripping at something. I realized that I had left his "lunch" (a baggie with treats in it) on the passenger seat with his leash (am I EVER going to learn?????). He hadn't had time to eat the treats, only time enough to destroy the bag. "Oh, Ray," I said, as I grabbed his collar and made him jump out so that he could get back into the back seat, "You know you're too young to drive." I figured he was like his namesake and just wanted to take a short drive to prove that he could do it. But first he needed a snack to fortify himself for the trip.

I started off again but Ray knew those treats were still in the front. He put his front paws on the center console and tried to climb over the seat (it's a good thing we were on a back road). I kept one hand on his chest and one hand on the wheel as I drove slowly down the street. All of a sudden Ray realized that the roof was gone and the sun was shining on his head. Treats forgotten, Ray stuck his head out the sun roof. All I could think of was every T.V. show or movie I'd ever seen where the vacationer/visitor/rube has to sit hanging out of the sunroof of the limousine as it tools around Las Vegas or Los Angeles or New York (or wherever). Ray was having a great time. I wondered what it looked like from the few cars that drove by as we eased on down the road.

Is He NORMAL??????

A woman was trying to enter the dog park with three little dogs hooked troika-style to one leash. Her dogs were all barking like crazy and had attracted all the dogs in the park to the gate (there were only six or seven). Mayhem ensued.

I went to grab Ray's collar to try to shut him up. Usually, it's like an off switch, the minute you put a hand on his collar he stops his noise. But because all of the other dogs were still barking, Ray was too. The woman looked at me and shouted (with a strong east european accent) over the din of dogs, "Is he normal?"
I know I must have looked confused for a moment before I shouted back, "Yes, he's normal."
I knew she couldn't possibly have had time to determine that Ray was blind. She made a motion with her hand to her throat, like someone ripping out an esophagus.
"Has he had his vocal cords cut?" she yelled.
I laughed outloud, thinking to myself that if someone had cut his vocal cords, they sure didn't do a very good job.
"No," I said, "He's a coonhound. He's SUPPOSED to sound like that."
The woman looked relieved then opened the gate to let her dogs through.

Ray and Max

Ray has a new friend at the dog park. Max is a four-month-old Boxer puppy and is just as sweet and cute as can be.
At first, Ray was his usual hound-self and yelled at the scared little guy. So I put Ray on leash. Max came over and jumped all over him, chewing on his neck and face. I took Ray off leash and he yelled. Max scurried. I put Ray on leash and Max came back to play.
Ray is realllly good with Max as long as he is on a leash. He gets a bit rough when he's off it.
Max prefers to play with dogs his own size and age until I put Ray on leash. Then Ray is the toy of choice.
Here are a few photos of Ray rolling over for Max to play with.

Ray has Sweet Dreams

Last night we were watching TV. Ray was curled up at my feet, sleeping. He was snoring and dreaming when all of a sudden his tail started wagging, thumping hard against the leather couch. It was as loud as a beating drum. Not long after that, he was running, his feet and legs going, the muscles in his shoulders twitching.
I've seen him run before in his dreams but the tail wag was a new one. I found myself thinking about it most of the night. What was he so happy about? I had a few ideas:

• Meeting his girlfriend, Halle
• Meeting his girlfriend, Clover
• Meeting his girlfriend, Sasha (Sash asked that she be added to this list, she was very upset that I had forgotten to include her)
• Getting a frozen marrow bone
• William coming to visit

Maybe all of the above all at once. I wondered if he remembered his dream when he woke up and if it still made him feel good. I sure hope so. It makes me feel good just thinking about it.

Just Playing with the Mac

It's called Photo Booth. And I found that I could take four photos in quick succession. And do special effects. I thought Ray might look good in black and white. He does! (last sequence of 4)

A Word about Dog Poop

If you have a dog, there is no ignoring poop. It's there and you have to deal with it. I've been avoiding writing about it because of the subject matter. But no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, I just couldn't escape the fact that I wanted to write a word or two about poop.

If I'm working, I wait until the weekend to scoop the poops. If I'm not working, I scoop poop a couple times a week. But that's neither here nor there. Scooping in the winter is easy, the poop freezes solid and it's mostly easy to find because the ground is bare. Spring and summer are a bit trickier. You really gotta be focused. You gotta put on your poop goggles and really LOOK for poop. Especially if you have a blind dog that leaves poop in weird places. Or maybe they're not weird. I've never had a dog before, I don't know where they usually leave poop.

I find poop nestled like bird eggs in the middle of bunches of grape hyacinth. I find it hidden under low clumps of ornamental grass like forgotten Easter eggs. I find Daliesque poop, artistically draped over the branches of an azalea bush. I find poop up against the fence, on top of large rocks, and on stepping stones. And more often than not I find myself thinking "How in the world did he get it THERE?"

Fall poop is probably the hardest to find. Once the leaves are on the ground, poop becomes like landmines, hidden and waiting, but without the deadly consequences. No matter how gingerly you step and how carefully you creep around, at some point you are going to step on poop. You smell it before you see it, but only AFTER you have stepped in it. It's inevitable.

I'm done. That's my word on poop.