That Sinking Feeling

We  were walking a somewhat unfamiliar trail. Most of the trail wound through woods adjacent to a lake, but part of the trail became a sidewalk and diverged through a townhouse community before continuing on. As the walk was fairly long, Gregg and I had been passing the leash back and forth between us, but at the moment, I was steering. As usual, Ray was leading.
Seeing a slight gap between the left edge of the sidewalk and the abutting grass that a blind dog could step into a find awkward, I warned Ray with a "careful" and pulled his leash a bit to the right.
I was too late. Ray's back paw hit the edge of the sidewalk and slid off into the gap. I watched stunned as his entire back leg disappeared.
Gregg ran to the dog and hauled Ray's back end up out of a chasm. What had looked like a small gap from the sidewalk was really an area of erosion around a drain pipe that traversed under the sidewalk.
"Oh my gosh, Ray, are you ok?" I asked the dog.
Ray took a few steps then stood and shook himself all over, shaking off the experience.
"That was a huge hole," I said to the dog, "You're lucky you didn't get hurt!"
Ray snorted indignantly and started off down the sidewalk again.
"That was really scary," I said to Gregg and Ray.
"It was," agreed Gregg.
Ray yawned. Obviously, all in a day's work for a blind hound.
 

Note to Self...

…do not leave a roll of paper towels in the cat room.

Reruns

Just a few of Ray's old Christmas Videos to get you into the spirit for that final bit of Christmas shopping.

Playmates

Ray was in the front hallway standing in front of Juno, his rawhide dangling from his doggy lips like a large stogie. His tail was swinging tentatively. I could tell that Juno was considering running but was awaiting developments. If the big dog came towards her, she would go, otherwise she would hold her ground
I laughed. I knew what Ray wanted. He wanted Juno to play keepaway with him.
"She's not going to play with you, Ray," I told my dog, "But I will. Gimme that bone, Ray."
At the familiar words, Ray started for the living room to do a loop around the coffee table. I scooped up Juno and followed him. As we neared his hind end, I bent a bit at the waist and held Juno in front of me within paws reach of Ray's swinging tail. The little cat drew back a bit but then, unable to resist the moving object, batted at the furry toy.
Excited that the cat was in on the game, Ray's tail picked up speed and so did his pace around the room. Juno and I followed, she batting, me laughing. Ray pranced into the hallway, turned, and did the classic butt-in-air doggy play pose. Juno, not quite as brave now that the massive dog-head was facing her, jumped from my hands and trotted to the safety of the Christmas tree to watch the end of the game. Ray and I took another couple of turns around the room but without the added excitement of Juno batting at his tail, the big dog soon lost interest and retired to the hallway for a chew.

FOUND THEM!

I was in the bathroom getting dressed to take Ray for a walk. In the winter this involves multiple layers of clothing so Ray, who usually waits patiently, was bored. I heard a yell, then another. I dropped the wooly sock I was holding and ran for the noise; it was coming from the cat room.
As I entered the hallway, I saw that the cat room door was open. By the time I made the room, Ray had let loose with another couple of yells. Juno was on the top platform of the cat tree, Ray's front feet were on the bottom platform of tree, his neck stretched to maximum stretchiness and his nose even with the platform. His tail was wagging. He had finally treed the varmints that were running around making all the galloping noises that were driving him crazy.
Poor Harvey, who obviously had been on the windowsill next to the tree, and who had tried to jump to the platform with his sister, was dangling from the top platform by two little paws.
I ran to the tree, grabbed my miscreant dog by the scruff of the neck (he should know by now that he is NOT allowed to yell at his cats), and dragged him to the stairs.
"BAD DOG. DOWNSTAIRS," I said, outraged.
Ray, knowing that he had screwed up, went.
I went back into the cat room and picked up little Harvey who immediately started purring. Ray, who knows enough to go, but never seems to know enough to stay, re-entered the room. I waited for Harvey's purring to stop and for him to puff up, but he just snuggled down into my arms more and continued purring. Apparently there were no hard feelings.

Ray's New Hobby

Mr. Jealous has a new hobby. He finds the places that the cats like to sleep and curls up in them. I can't decide if he's waiting for them to come and lay down with him, or if he thinks that their spots must be better than his. I feel a little sorry for Harvey. Every time he finds a place he likes, it is taken over by the monster dog. I don't feel sorry for Juno. I know if she really wanted the spot, she'd take it back.

Play-Worthy

The kittens are starting to remind me of Ray when he was a puppy. It's amazing how much puppy-Ray and they have in common. One of Ray's early blogs listed everything he played with in a morning. Here is a similar list for the kittens, although this is more of a generic list of things that I've seen them play with up until now.

• Christmas ornaments (I spend part of every day redecorating the Christmas tree)
• Lip balm
• Pens and pencils
• Empty toilet paper rolls
• The sliding cellular shade that covers the sliding glass door
• Crickets
• My keys
• The phone headset (a favorite of Ray's, he ate at least one of these and I was constantly taking them away from him)
• The power cord to my laptop
• Ray's eyedrops (up until quite recently these resided on the kitchen counter. After spending hours on two consecutive mornings looking for them, these three bottles now live in a cupboard)
• A bottle containing a single de-wormer pill that we are supposed to give Harvey sometime in the near future (if we can find it)
• My bathrobe belt (I'm seriously considering asking for one with a zipper for Christmas)
• The little dangly thing that hangs off my sweatshirt zipper - (the reason I won't ask for a zippered robe for Christmas)
• A seam-ripping tool without the lid on it. (I will be eternally grateful that Juno did not try to eat this)
• A small, metal goat bell
• A long, narrow piece of fleece (I could tell it was a grudge match. The fleece won)
• Anything not nailed down that is small enough to bat around

Juno also finds Ray's treat ball fascinating. She watches him play with it, hears it rattle, and wants in on the action, but the thing is just too big for her to move. I have added to my list of Things to Do: find out if cat treat balls exist.