Ray's New Neighbors (sigh) and One Old Friend

This summer, we had two nice, new couples move onto our cul-de-sac. Both of them expressed the intent of adopting dogs at some point, and I was excited for Ray. His life has been sorely lacking in doggy companionship since Murphy and Halle and Tucker and Jasper had all moved away. And although Ray walks with Sasha, his Husky friend, on occasion, and has contact with Maddie across the street and the pugs next door, they are not really dogs with which he can play.

The first couple to move in were the first to adopt. Ray's greeting of the new neighbor, a Bull Terrier named Willow, was the one he reserves for his bête noir, the bully breeds. He gave a low growl, a single doghorn blast in the face, and then a total ignore. Not one to take the insult lying down, Willow now goes ballistic every time she passes Ray on the street. Ray pays her no mind. He stares straight ahead and walks on. This seems to infuriate Willow even more. There is no hope for a friendship from that quarter.

Still, I was hopeful that the other new neighbors would adopt a friend for Ray and when I was told that they had added a nine month old "Labrador/Shepherd" mix to the family, I was ecstatic. Finally, a potential friend for Ray.

My elation was short-lived. As Ray and I were walking past the neighbor's house, Luna was being walked out. Ray gave his from-the-belly yell, the one he reserves for Boxers and raccoons. We walked across the street to meet the newcomer. Luna enthusiastically tried to greet Ray. Ray employed his ignore tactic, walking to the end of his leash and looking off into the distance while I fawned over the cute puppy. It was hard to pin-down Luna's exact parentage but Ray was convinced that Boxer was in there somewhere.

Sadly, I resigned myself to the fact that my prejudiced dog was going to remain friendless, but for Juno, to the end of his days.

It's just you and me, dog.

But then, Ray caught a break, albeit a temporary one; Halle, his supermodel girlfriend, was on her way back to Virginia and would be bunking at grandma Deborah's house until Halle's mom found a place of her own. Excitedly, we awaited her homecoming.

The reunion was slightly anticlimactic. We were walking around the block when I saw Halle and Deborah approaching. The weather being foul, California-dwelling-Halle was bundled up in her fashionable bee-coat and less-than-fashionable snow boots. She looked dazed and confused, even more so when Ray started spinning joyous circles around her. Her lack of reaction put a damper on Ray's happiness. He looked slightly embarrassed that Halle didn't seem to remember him and walked to the end of his leash ready to go. I attributed Halle's lack of enthusiasm to the rigors of travel, a cross-country drive, a three hour time change, and being caught wearing unfashionable footwear by a boyfriend that she hadn't seen in more than a year. We escorted her and Deborah back to their house and went on home.

Two days later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to Deborah and Halle.

"We were down at the end of the street and she just started pulling me up this way. She wanted to come  and see Ray," said Deborah smiling.

I let them both in the house and went to call to Ray while Deborah let Halle off of her leash.

"Look who's here, Ray!" I said to the blind hound.

Ray went right to Deborah, while Halle, happy to be here, skipped past him into the kitchen to grab a bite of his food. Ray ignored her. I picked up Ray's dish off of the floor and put it onto the counter. Halle skipped past Ray again and on into the living room. Ray didn't acknowledge her presence. Halle went to Ray's toy basket and started to chew on his bone, a surefire way to get his attention. Ray just stood in the hallway, listening intently, and didn't move.

Turnabout, I thought, she ignored him so he's ignoring her.
Deborah clipped Halle back to her leash and led her away. Ray seemed unfazed by the visit of his former girlfriend.

Today, Ray and Sasha and Todd (Sasha's dad) and I went to see the prodigal girl. Everyone seemed thrilled at being back together. Except for the Supermodel who, upset at her treatment during the previous visit, was giving Ray the cold shoulder again.

Oh Halle's mom, I missed you SO much.

Oh, Halle's mom, I missed you too...

…and I especially missed those butt rubs.

Is it chilly out here or is it just me? 

Good to have you back, Hal!

Nuts

Ray was standing in front of me, head down, whining. This is not an uncommon occurrence for Mr. Whiny so I wasn't too concerned but after half an hour or so, I started to get slightly perturbed.
"Would you please be quiet," I requested of the mopey hound.
The whining intensified.
Usually the cause of the whining is walk or food related, but it was the wrong time of the day for either one of those things, so I was a bit mystified.
Ray walked a step or two away and, with head still lowered morosely, whined some more.
"Quiet," I said again.
Ray upped the noise quotient and went to stand in front of Harvey's chair, the one with the monkey fur cushion.
"Quiet," I said again futilely.
Ray sighed.
I watched, surprised, as the dog climbed awkwardly onto the chair and settled into a miserable little ball. He sighed again
A lightbulb went off over my head.
It was washday. Ray's sheep-fleece throw was in the washing machine. He had a least another hour to wait.
I thought of Linus.

Christmas Present Fail

This year for Christmas, Santa brought Ray, Harvey, and Juno a water dish that recirculates water. Santa believed that possibly Harvey would stop drinking out of toilets if there were access to moving water. Santa was a bit trepidatious that Ray's typical reaction to burbling water would kick in, and that, initially, it could be a bit noisy around the house. Still, Santa thought it was worth a shot if the result was to have clean, dry toilet seats again.

The original water dish, next to Ray's food dish, was whisked away and replaced with the new high-tech device. The burbling water didn't make enough noise to set off the doghorn and the little motor that recirculates the water made an almost imperceptible low hum, nothing loud enough to disturb anyone.

Juno was the first to use the new appliance. After circling back and forth in front of it for a minute or two, curiosity got the better of her. Juno interestedly watched the water flow from the little well at top to the pool below. She tried a little, found that it was just like the old water, lost interest, and left.

What the……?

I THINK, it's just water

Harvey, when he finally noticed the dish, raced past it, tail puffed. He stopped some distance away, watched it suspiciously, raced past it again, stopped, watched it, then raced past it again. When the thing failed to give chase, Harvey decided that perhaps it wasn't a monster and decided to investigate. To his delight, he found running water. Harvey drank from the lower bowl, walked away and returned to drink from the little bowl with the burbler at top. He found the whole experience extremely entertaining.

Yeah. Yep. It's just water. 

Ray was a tougher nut to crack. He stood in the middle of kitchen listening intently, his eyebrows doing the Flatley on his forehead. He nervously moved a step closer then stopped. I spoke to him soothingly. Ray wasn't buying it. He circled to the other side of the dish and stood, listening, worried. He circled back to the middle of the kitchen and stood stock still, listening.

I went to the dish, dipped my fingers in the water, and waggled them. Ray's head tilted to one side; he moved a step closer. I waggled my fingers again. Ray moved close enough for me to stretch my arm out and put damp fingers under his nose. Ray licked the water off. I repeated the gesture. Again Ray licked the water off then stepped closer listening to the water move as I dipped my fingers in the bowl again. After repeating this four or five times, Ray stepped to the bowl and took a sip. I mentally congratulated Santa for the bright idea of the new bowl.

Do you hear that?

Over the next few days, I noticed that Ray had developed a new dining ritual. Whereas before he would simply eat the canned food in his bowl, his new ritual involved taking a mouthful, carrying it into the living room, eating it there, returning to his bowl for a mouthful, carrying it into the living room, eating it there, until all the food in his dish was gone.

I started to wonder what had prompted the new ritual and sadly came to the conclusion that the new water dish was the culprit. Although the low hum of the motor didn't bother the humans or the cats in the household, it obviously bothered the blind hound.

What IS that? 

The water dish was whisked away to a remote location and replaced by its low-tech cousin. The bizarre dining ritual disappeared. Peace and tranquility returned to Ray the Blind Dog's life

I don't like it. I don't like it at all. 

You need to do something about this.

Twas the Night Before Christmas...

…and right on cue, the creatures stopped stirring.

Merry Christmas everyone 

from Ray the Blind Dog 

and Family

Strange Dog

"Is he always this weird after a bath?" Gregg's voice wafted up the staircase.
"What's he doing?" I shouted back.
I was cleaning the bathroom after having shunted the dripping dog to a waiting Gregg. I had known for a couple of weeks that Ray needed a bath because he'd been sneaking into the laundry room and stealing fabric softener sheets to roll on. Strangely, the hound can't stand the smell of stinky dog.
"He's racing around and acting all goofy," the voice replied.
"Did he go out back and dig a hole?" I queried.
"Yeah," replied Gregg.
"Then, yeah, that's normal," I answered, grinning, thinking of Ray's SOP (standard operating procedure) and hoping that Gregg would knock some of the dirt off of Ray's belly and legs and clean his claws before letting him back into the house.
Fifteen minutes later, the fluffy dog was stretched out on his blanket on the bed. His belly and legs were clean; his claws however were caked with mud. Two out of three, I thought. Not bad.

The Naughty List

I heard paper ripping, never a good sound when one is not the one doing the ripping. I hurried into the front hall and found Ray happily tearing open a present. I saw with horror that it was Gregg's present from my sister, Kathy. When I had opened the box from Colorado on the previous day, I had left the gift on the kitchen counter. Gregg must have dropped it under the tree when he got home, I thought as I extracted the ever-so-slightly-damp-and-dog-toothed book from the grinning Ray.

Naughty...

When Gregg got home that night I met him with the news.

"Did you put it under the tree?" I asked him about the gift.

"No," replied my lovely husband, "Last time I saw it, it was on the kitchen counter."

I shook my head ruefully, amazed, as always, 

that a blind hound would know that there was a wrapped present on the kitchen counter. Although, why Ray would think that someone was sending him a BOOK for Christmas is a bit of a mystery.

...naughty

In an entirely different, but totally related, vein. Someone ate the top off of a cinnamon bun left on the same kitchen counter. It was tidily done; the bun never moved from where it had been left, but the frosting was gone. Although I can't be 100% sure, I'm fairly certain The Dumpling did it. She of the broad palate. Harvey has a much more refined taste in food. Juno will eat anything not nailed down.

So that's two of the three kids on Santa's naughty list. For now.

Lesson Learned

I am completely and deeply offended that you do not
want me to assist with the decorating

We had just finished decorating the tree. It had sat naked but for lights for over a week and now the final string of gold beads was hung. It was finally done. I breathed a sigh of satisfaction and went to sit and admire our handiwork.

As always, Ray was a gigantic help, positioning himself between me and the tree or me and the bin of ornaments until, in total exasperation, I told him to "Golaydown." Ray huffily complied only to be replaced by Juno and Harvey. While Harvey enjoyed basking in the shade of the tree under construction, Juno took a more Ray-like approach to the whole process. Although, instead of getting between me and the decorations, she just positioned her dumpling self on top of them.

This is AWESOME.
I think we should always have a tree here.

Hmmm hmmm hmmm. Hmm hmm hmmm
jingle all the way…

As I sat relaxing and enjoying the moment, I heard lapping. Harvey, feeling a bit thirsty after all the activity, was helping himself to the Christmas-tree-water. Having read just recently that animals should not be allowed to drink Christmas-tree-water, I yelled in my dog-correction voice "Hey! Get outta there!"

…oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh

Whereas the reaction from Ray would be a look of mild enquiry, the reaction from Harvey was a bit more dramatic; he exploded from under the tree taking with him a string of lights, a length of gold beads, and three ornaments. I heard the dog-gate crash as the panic-stricken cat shot through the small-animal escape hatch, and then the fhwwwwip of the cat flap into the garage.

Laughing, outraged, and feeling more than a bit bad about Harvey, I went to re-decorate the tree. In his frantic flight, Harvey had unplugged the string of lights and snapped an ornament in two. The other ornaments had been stripped out of their dangly holders. I re-hung the gold beads on the lower branches of the tree and went to look for the scaredy-cat.

You don't like Jingle Bells? I know others.

Harvey was hiding in the garage. Although he came out of his hiding place when I called, he wouldn't let me approach him, just mewed and paced anxiously. I saw a flash of orange out of the corner of my eye and realized that he had been followed by Juno who was also hiding and wouldn't come out at all.
That is, wouldn't come out at all until Gregg came and shook the treat can. The Dumpling came right inside. It took Harvey two more hours to calm down.

Note to self: Do not use dog-correction voice with cats.