NOT a Vegetarian

Ray has a thing about vegetables. He HATES them. I have tried and tried to get a photo of Ray when presented with a vegetable but I just can't capture the look of sheer disgust on his face. I hand him a bean, (he's too polite to refuse it), he curls his lips back so that they don't touch the offensive vegetal matter, and takes it gingerly in his teeth. With the bean extending from his teeth like a stubby cigarette, Ray tiptoes from the kitchen (like I won't notice) and drops the icky thing in the front hall. It is truly the funniest thing. 

Having said that, I thought I was safe yesterday, when I removed some tiny bags of tiny carrots (the kind you put in a lunchbox) and a bag of spinach from the refrigerator and put them on the counter in preparation for making soup. I went upstairs briefly, heard some odd noise coming from downstairs and called, "Ray! Ray!" When there was no response, I descended the stair. There was Ray in the front hall (he owns this area), tearing into one of the tiny bags of tiny carrots. There were carrots scattered everywhere. He must have swung his head after ripping open the bag, making a lovely, orange, eight-foot crescent moon on the rug. 

I removed the bag from his teeth, collected the carrots, then offered him one (Yeah, I know I shouldn't have but I just had to see if this was vegetable that he actually liked). Ray curled his lips back, took the carrot gingerly in his teeth, and dropped in on the rug in the front hall. Definitely NOT a vegetarian.

Link to Snow

Halle's grandma, an extremely creative sort of person, made a photo montage of the big snow we had around here. It features lots and lots of snow, some pics of Halle in her fashionable bee outfit and a shot of Ray. If you want to feel good about not having snow this is the video for you!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9yRcvz-pa4

Just another Ray Day

The day started out good for Ray. Moonie came downstairs and wanted the milk remaining in my cereal bowl. I put the bowl on the arm of the couch. Moonie stepped over to lap up the milk but instead knocked the bowl off the couch and onto the floor. Ray, who had been peacefully sleeping by my side, lifted his head to "see" what was going on. Moonie, as usual, evaporated into thin air the second she realized that the dog was awake. At the smell and sound of food hitting the floor, Ray climbed off of the couch to investigate. After watching him for five minutes or so, I decided that if I didn't clean the spot, Ray was going to lick a hole in the rug.

So I scrubbed at the place with a little water then placed my knitting box in front of the table under which the milk had spilled. As you can see, Ray was not deterred.

After breakfast we headed to the dogpark. Ray met up with his old friend Nikki (I use the term loosely, Nikki isn't a year old yet and Ray is only a year and a half). By happy coincidence, someone had left in the snow a hard rubber toy with a large bell in the middle. Ray likes toys that make noise (for obvious reasons) and a lively game of keepaway ensued. Usually Ray can't follow Nikki that closely but the bell made all the difference. He stayed right on her tail (pun alert!) and Nikki was kind enough not to run too fast so that Ray didn't lose her.

Nikki's favorite position, on her back getting her neck chewed.

Nikki with the toy in her mouth, being tailed by Ray.

Random Photos

The backyard. The path that I dug for Ray has completely melted where the sun hits it and he is lying, in this photo, just to the right of the bird bath, trying to get some sun.

Gregg trying to shovel out the mailbox last weekend

I saw this crocus getting ready to bloom just before the big storm. Looks like it made it.

Ray found a better place to sleep than the

path. But even here the ground was a bit too wet and cold. He came back in the house after about 10 minutes.

Ray in a Pickle (part 2)

The last few weekends, after a chilly walk, Ray would come home and search the house for a sunny spot to take a nap. We have three bedrooms that face the sun. The cats occupy one, my office/studio is in the second and the third is the master bedroom. I was in my office working on the computer when Ray came wandering in. I should probably explain that my "office/studio" is a tiny little room jammed full of crap. Two 6' high bookcases, a multi-level workspace/desk, three chairs (mine, the cats, and a wooden chair that I use at my sewing machine), three sewing machines, a three drawer component for office supplies, a drafting table (that is currently disassembled and lying against the wall), a sewing basket (I mention it because it is takes up floor space and is rather substantial in size), and bins and bins and bins full of yarn. There is also a bowl of water, a scratchy pad and a windowsill shelf for the cats. Ray likes the convenience of the waterbowl and finds the scratchy pad and windowsill shelf very interesting smelling. It's about as close as he ever gets to actually smelling a cat up close.

Ray has leaned to enter this room a bit tentatively because nothing is ever in the same place twice. He bumps into chairs and bins, gets hissed at by Hugo, gets tangled in computer cords, it's a very confusing room. But today Ray wanted SUN and he knew it was in there somewhere.

He slowly meandered in and made his way to the corner of the room where the sun was streaming in. There was no place to lay on the floor so he climbed up on top of a bin of yarn and stood where the sun could hit his head. After a minute he realized that it wasn't a particularly comfortable spot and he wanted out. Then he realized that he didn't know how to get off of the bin of yarn. It was just high enough off of the ground, that when he reached out a paw all he hit was air. He stood, whining. I tried to coax him off with sweet talk. Ray TRIED to get off the bin but he was scared. He turned around to see if maybe it was lower on the other side but it wasn't. He whined some more then put a paw out again, his weight shifted just enough for the bin to flip him off and onto the floor. Ray was relieved. I led him out of the office and into our bedroom where I opened the blinds to let the sun in. Ray hopped up onto our bed to lay in the sunny spot. I turned a blind eye and returned to my computer.

Back to the Park

The project I've been working on at work is finally over. I'm looking forward to a little at home time before the next one starts. Ray has been spending long days at daycare and, although he loves it, he comes home so tired that our interaction has been reduced to quick games of keep-away around the coffee table in the morning and evening, and car rides to and from Just Fur Pets. 

The snow we had a couple of weeks ago is slowly starting to melt. There are still huge mountains of it where it was plowed off of streets and parking lots but the yard is down to about a foot of coverage. So, as a way of easing back into our old routine, yesterday I took him to the dog park for an hour. 

Ray was ecstatic to be back. Some of his Saturday friends were there: Ellie Mae, the chubby bloodhound; Chief, the 145 pound Great Dane; Sheba, the old-lady dog that Ray adores (Ray has a thing for old females - they won't give him the time of day though); and one of his good friends from the hard-core group that we used to see everyday, Nikki, an indeterminate mix of some really high-energy dogs. Nikki was thrilled to see him and tried her usual ploy of running underneath him and grabbing his face from below. Ray gave her a quick lick but he was there to run. He did a quick meet-and-greet with everybody then took off after a pack of four or five dogs that I didn't recognize.

Like our yard, the ground was still covered with about a foot of snow but it was uneven and craggy from where the dog's feet had sunk in. Ray was looking particularly spastic as he ran around, yelling, following his group. He couldn't see the terrain and his footing was uncertain. I worried that he was going to pull a muscle or wrench something but he was having a great time so I stood by and chatted with the parents while our kids ran around. 

Chief was being particularly boisterous, bounding around from person to person, then tearing around. Then back to the people. "He's really fast!" I said to his owner. "Yeah," he replied, "Problem is he can't stop. I was out shoveling snow and stopped to talk to a group of neighbors. There were five of us and Chief came running up, tried to stop and couldn't. He  slid into us sideways. We all went down like bowling pins." Chief is a BIG dog. (My mind boggled as I thought of Giant George, the worlds biggest dog, a 245 pound Great Dane doing something similar. I'm sure he could easily take out the full compliment of bowling-pin-people. I found myself thinking that it's a really good thing he lives in a warm climate. If you're curious, check him out on the following links.)

 http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1237727/Is-Giant-George-worlds-tallest-dog-The-7ft-long-blue-great-dane-claim-title.html and http://www.facebook.com/posted.php?id=183261491109

Ray came home with me reluctantly. I had to bribe him with treats to get him to leave. When we got home, I sat down on the couch to read the paper. Ray came over to join me. Usually he just curls into a little ball beside me. This time he climbed up, planted his butt on my lap, braced his front feet against the arm of the couch (kind of like he did to Gregg in the video), and leaned his full weight against my chest. Then he turned his head, laid it over my shoulder and let out a deep sigh. Contentment? Sadness? Exhaustion? Who knows what goes through the mind of a blind hound. I sat there for a long time stroking my dog, wondering how in the world I ever got along without him.  

Thanks for the Votes!

Ray would like to thank everyone that voted for him and to let them know that he is going to donate $10 for every vote that he received to his favorite charities. He decided to split the amount between the two mentioned in our last blog.

Thanks!!!