Ray 'Sees' a Deer

Friday, Lisa, Patch, Ray and I were walking along the power lines path. Ahead of us were two deer; they had stopped and were looking at us, tails twitching (not our tails, their tails). At first Patch didn't see them, but then he did. He was standing at attention, straining at his leash. Ray was oblivious for a minute but then he too was standing at attention. I couldn't decide if he sensed what Patch was doing or if he could smell the deer.

We continued down the path and the deer took off into the woods. When we neared the place where they had stood, the hair on Ray's back went up. He cautiously approached the exact spot where one of the deer had stood, jerking back every so often as if he was afraid of being attacked. He squatted down on his forelimbs, his butt in the air, his nose pressed against the ground, his back legs quivering in fear. I found myself wondering if he could smell size. Did he know that the things he was smelling were really large? If he could see them, would he have known that he could chase them away? As it was, he was afraid, ready to spring back on his haunches and run if needed. I talked to him and told him everything was OK. Ray cautiously continued to sniff for a bit longer, then we headed on down the path.

The brown dot in distance on the left is the deer. Ray is "looking" in totally the wrong direction.

Random Ray Photos

Ray and Geese (notice his ears in dumbo mode)

Ray and Gregg on the trail around the lake

Ray, Worn out after Playing with Murphy

Ray in the Vet's Office Waiting for the Vet

Ray Riding Shotgun

Not Ray, A Picnic Table at the Park (I just like this one)

Sasha and Ray (revisited)

Today when we went walking, Ray pulled me across the street to Sasha's house (see Sasha at http://www.raytheblinddog.com/2009/07/ray-and-sasha-love-story.html.) Normally, Ray will just walk on by. But every once-in-awhile, Ray wants to go see Sasha.

Todd tells me that when Sasha sees a dog walk by her house, she wrrroooo wroooos. But when Sasha sees Ray walking by, she goes crazy. She wrrroooo wroooos and then she goes to get Todd and wrrroooo wrooos at him and runs back to the door until Todd gets up to see what's going on.

By now Todd knows what's going on. Ray is going on. So Todd gets Sasha's leash and comes out to walk with us. Usually he's in the middle of some household renovation, but Todd is a good dog dad so he drops everything and brings Sasha out to walk out with her blind boyfriend. It's a beautiful relationship.

Dog for Sale. CHEAP.

Ok, I admit it. I asked for it. I never should have written that Ray was a good dog. I knew there would be repercussions the minute I wrote it. I just didn't think it would happen so soon. Yesterday, Ray was horrible. It wasn't that he got into things. He was just whiney. He's always been a bit of a whiney baby but geez, he was awful.

We went to the dog park in the morning and got there late. Only a couple of Ray's usual friends were there so he didn't run as much. After about 30 or 40 minutes, we left with our friends, Lisa and Patch, and went for a couple mile walk. Then Ray and I returned to the dog park (I had left my water jug) and Ray ran with some new friends for another 30 or 40 minutes. Then we went home.

As usual, Ray sacked out. But he didn't stay sacked out. When he woke up, Ray started to pace. And whine. And pace. And whine. I thought maybe he had to go out, but that wasn't it. I tried to ignore it. I tried hard.

At about 1:30 or 2:00, I hooked Ray up to his leash for a walk down the street to get Murphy. I had told Rachel, Murphy's mom, that I would take Murph for a walk in the afternoon if I wasn't working. When we left the house, I saw Kappy, who was home visiting her mom and dad, across the street. Even though Ray has only met Kappy a couple of times, he loves her. He goes gaga whenever she is around. (I think it's because they look alike. They have the same coloring and freckles.) So Ray and I headed over to say hi to his friend and get some much-needed attention for the hound dog.

We then continued on down to Murphy's house, retrieved the dog, and walked around the block together. When we got back, I turned them lose in the backyard where they raced around for 10 or 15 minutes. It was hot and muggy. The dogs were really winded and panting, so we took Murphy to her home and Ray and I returned to ours. Ray paced and whined. And paced. And whined. And whined and whined and whined. And paced. I could tell he wanted Murphy back.

After an hour or so of this, I put Ray out in the backyard and watched as he tried to tunnel through the back gate. When he realized that he wasn't making any progress he started to whine again. He finally laid down against the gate just in case it magically opened and Murphy appeared.

At about 4:30, I took Ray for his preprandial walk. He tried to drag me up the street to get Murphy but with much pulling and cajoling, I convinced Ray to go in the opposite direction. We toured the block and returned home where I fed Ray. He finished dinner and curled up on a chair. Relieved, I started to clean the kitchen prior to Gregg's arrival home from work.

The minute Gregg got home, Ray got up and started his pacing again. And his whining.

Gregg and I left Ray in the house and retired to the porch for a cocktail. Kappy and her mom came over, and Ray, hearing Kappy's voice, started a tunneling operation on the inside of the front door. I have a couple of baby gates across the front porch so I can let the pooch out in the evening while we sit outside. I figured I might as well let him out to visit with his girlfriend again. Ray came out the front door, barreled through the baby gates and headed down the street, tail swinging, toward Murphy's house with me, barefoot, in hot pursuit. He made a slight detour toward William's house, but decided at the last minute to stick to his original plan and go for Murphy. I gotta give the dog credit for stick-to-itive-ness. He wasn't giving up.

I trotted down the street after him but wasn't having a lot of luck catching him. He never comes when called (at least not when called by Gregg or I) but I was calling, nonetheless. Ray made it to Murphy's front door and knocked (scratched) a couple of times (Murphy was going crazy inside), then, when I got close, took off around the side of the house. He realized that he didn't know where he was going so he started back towards the street.

At this point, thank God, my neighbor Charlotte, hearing me calling, got involved and started calling "Ray! Ray!" Ray hearing another sweet voice that he loves, headed for Charlotte. She snabbled him and I gratefully took his collar and led him home. Ray was smiling from ear to ear. I went home and looked up "Gypsies" in the Yellow Pages but didn't find any listings.

A Really Great Dog

I've been pondering lately how much Ray has changed since we took him in. He has morphed into a truly excellent hound. Not that he wasn't always, but now that some of the puppy has left him and now that he has a bit of training under his belt, he has really become a wonderful dog.

I mean, he does have relapses now and then, like the day he ate a mirror, a pair of glasses, and a shoe, and the other day when he ate another one of my lip balms, and the night before last when I put a couple of salads on the coffee table in the family room and came back to find him picking through one (He wasn't eating it just picking things out of it and leaving them on the table. He hates vegetable matter which is why I figured it was safe. My bad.). But, for the most part, Ray has become a really good dog.

Then I start to think, has he become a good dog? Or have we become better dog parents? I look at the things we do to make sure that Ray has the opportunity to be good: gates across the laundry room, hook and eye on the cat room door, screen protector on the front door, kitchen trash in the bathroom, lots and lots and lots of exercise, lots and lots of interaction with people and other dogs, the kabuki dance we go through every night putting dinner on the table so that no food is left unattended (the other-night's salad notwithstanding), daycare so that he's not left alone for too long; and I think there's no reason for Ray not to be all that he can be.

Ray is a great dog. And although we started from scratch, and although we had many, many moments of complete idiocy, we have become much better dog parents (so far) (knock on wood) (I hope I haven't jinxed it) (uh oh, maybe I shouldn't have said anything) (I take it back - Ray has become a great dog all on his own.) (Oh no, what have I done....)

Oh, Why Do I Even Bother

Today I washed the kitchen floor. Ray wasn't in and out so it was staying pretty clean and I was happy.

About 4 o'clock this afternoon, Ray's alarm went off and he started whining and pacing. We'd already been for a walk at 2:30 so I thought maybe he'd give me a little slack but no such luck. I looked out my office/studio window to see if our neighbor, Rachel, was home from work and we could go get Murphy for a run around the backyard. It looked like her car was there so I said, "Hey Ray, let's go see if Murphy is home." I didn't think he would know what I was talking about, but as usual, Ray surprised me. He jumped his front feet up on my sewing machine (where I was sitting) and "looked" out the window, his tail wagging wildly and his ears deployed in dumbo mode. "She's not out there, Ray. We have to go see if she's home." Ray dashed to the door, ready. I slid his collar over his ears and we headed out the door. Ray immediately turned up the street and did his best impression of a husky, dragging me to Murphy's house.

Murphy was more than ready to come play. Both of them tore madly around the backyard playing catch-me-if-you-can. After about 5 or 10 minutes of this, Ray wanted in. It was HOT and he was panting so I figured he needed a drink. I let him into the kitchen and watched as he wandered over to his water dish. I turned to see if Murphy also wanted a drink and when I turned back to look in the kitchen at Ray, there were wet, muddy pools of footprints EVERYWHERE. Ray had obviously stepped into, or tripped over, his dish and the rest was history. I sighed.

AAaaaaaaaaeeeee

I'd picked Ray up from daycare and followed him into the backyard. He ran around yelling a bit to let people know we were home. I bent over to look at a branch on a Japanese maple. I was thinking of removing it and was trying to imagine what the tree would look like without it. Still bent over, I looked up to see the spastic cannonball headed my way at top speed. I obviously hadn't been making enough noise for Ray to know where I was and it looked like it was going to be a direct hit. I'm not ashamed to admit that I screamed. My life flashed before my eyes and I could see the anachronistic headline on my obit "Woman Dies after being Hit by Cannonball." The cannonball passed so close that he stepped full on my foot and my clothing moved in the breeze caused by his wake.

When it was all over, I laughed from sheer relief that I had once again escaped death by a hairsbreadth from the spastic cannonball.