Dog Day Afternoon

It really was a dog day afternoon.

At noon I packed up Barkley for what I hoped would be his last trip to Petco. Ashley had told me that there were 3 inquiries about him this week (possibly due to our changing the spelling of his name from "Barkley" to "Berkley.")

When I dropped him off, I asked Stacey about getting gift cards for Petco so I could buy some more Step 2 for the puppies. She gave me two cards, $20 each, so I bought the last can of Step 2 and a bag of the smallest size puppy kibble I could find, hoping to start adding that to the Step 2 before I run out of it.

From there I drove to the SPCA Thrift store to pick up another bag of Esbilac, puppy formula. I am not going to need much more of it, but I will need some more before these guys are completely off of it.

My car now had a sack of puppy kibble, a sack of puppy formula and a can of intermediate puppy food.

I drove home and alternately played with and cleaned up after puppies. I'd forgotten that this is the stage of puppy development when we have towels all over the floor all the time. Washing all the towels and their bedding took two loads of wash. I got them settled into the playpen for naps in clean bedding.

Additionally, the puppies have worms. Two years ago this would have grossed me out, but when I saw Eliza trying to expell this long string of what I at first thought was feces but which turned out to be a long white worm, I just grabbed it and pulled it out. Higgins also vomited once and possibly twice today, which I suspect is also part of the worm condition.

When I returned to Petco to get Barkley, someone was being interviewed about adopting him, so I decided to shop for food for our dogs. Ashley stopped me and said she had a sack of puppy kibble for me. I took it because you can never have too much puppy kibble, I have realized! I took that to the car and then went back to get some diet dog food for Lizzie and Sheila, using the last of the Petco Cards (since I figure it was retroactive food for Barkley, who had been sharing our dogs' food--and it only paid for half the bag of food anyway).

I ran into Kim, who was interviewing Barkley's new family and she said "have you seen your new dog?"

Oh. I forgot about the new dog.

I put the two sacks of new kibble in the car and went back to find the new dog. Pretty soon someone came out with this pile of towels out of which poked a tiny face.

Our new foster is another chihuahua with Demodex, like the Royal Puppies, except this one is going to have darker fur because his skin looks more black and purple than the Royal Puppies, who were quite pink.

He's also a lot more scabby than the Royal Puppies were.

Ashley loaded me up with medicine for Demodex and medicine for worms and promised to e-mail me with dosages and get me a needle to inject one of the Demodex meds.

They gave me the honor of naming the new pup (who is about 3 months old) and after first considering JoJo (for the character in Seussical, which I saw last night), I realized that since he has Demodex, I should name him Dexter. So we now have Dexter.

Dexter is a little overwhelmed with the house. He's about the height of the puppies, but they probably outweigh him by a lot. He doesn't know if he wants to be in my lap or on the floor, but he did sleep in my lap for a bit while I watched "The Secret Life of Bees," while everybody was napping.

The puppies found a quiet spot behind the playpen to sleep.

(Freddie's head is under the back end of the treadmill)

During the movie Walt called twice, once from Logan Airport in Boston and once from O'Hare in Chicago, where he was changing planes. I wonder if he's ready to be plunged back into the madness of this doghouse!

Cujo

Cujo (aka "Freddie") is still here. I'm not sure why he has had so little interest shown in him. Who could resist this photo, which is posted on the internet:

Now wouldn't you want to adopt this sweet little guy?

And he is sweet. He's my constant companion. He sleeps on my feet, or in my lap. He follows me everywhere. But he'll also go off and sleep in his bed if I'm tired of all that body contact.

He plays great with Lizzie. They chase each other up and down the hall, roll over on top of each other growing fiercely in pretend fighting, play tug-of-war and join with Sheila is chasing away garbage trucks, mailmen, and every dog who dares to walk past the front window.

He likes squeak toys, chasing his tail, and begging for pieces of toast from my breakfast.

He's not 100% housebroken, but oh so much better than he used to be. He can go days without peeing in the house and I haven't picked up a pile of poop in weeks.

He's soft and fluffy and very cute. What's not to like?

He does have this one little quirk, however. Nobody would know about it unless he'd lived with them for awhile.

He's fiercely loyal and fiercely protective of me and though he's sweet and loving and open and friendly during the daytime, when the sun sets, he turns into Freddie the Fierce. He attacks anybody or anything that comes near me. His friend Lizzie becomes his sworn enemy. His buddy Walt is someone to be snarled at and snapped at if he gets too close. It's very strange, but it definitely seems to be related to time of day. (It's why I've started calling him "Cujo.")

This morning, for example, the dogs let me sleep until nearly 8, which is practically unheard of. Thus, I was just waking up when Walt was coming downstairs for the first time. I sat up on the couch and was immediately buried under the dogs, for our morning love in. Walt came in, knelt down in front of me and joined the fray. Freddie jumped all over him, licking him and wagging his tail furiously.

But last night when Walt was going off upstairs to go to bed, he came over to tell me good night and Freddie snarled and leaped at him. When Freddie jumped off my lap and Walt called him over, he very happily jumped into his lap, but when he was in my lap, Walt had to wave at me from across the room, rather than come too close.

It's a small little quirk -- honest. And I'm sure when he gets into his forever family it can be easily trained out of him. I just hope that forever home shows up soon before it becomes an emotional upheaval for Freddie to have to move away from me.

King of the Hill

First of all, after all these weeks/months, Scooby (the one in front here) has finally found a forever home. We were so pleased to come home from Ned's last night and get the message from Megan. I've been so concerned about him because he really needed somebody special who wouldn't rush him, who would help him learn to trust, as he had only just begun to do with me (and it always took a step backwards whenever I took him to Petco and left him for a day--it would take a few more days to get that trust back again).

But Megan describes his family this way:

Mom, dad, 2 kids (13 and 15) and a 3 year old 25 lb mix breed female dog. Mom works from home so she is with the dogs all the time. Scooby loved their other dog. Their other dog was very scared when they rescued her (she came from Katrina) so they hired a dog trainer to work with her and she is now very social and doing great. They brought along their trainer
today and helped them introduce themselves and their other dog to Scooby so he felt comfortable. Scooby seemed to really like them and was even
hanging out with the husband. They understand that he will need time to come out of his shell and they are willing to give him all the time he needs. I think it will be great for him having a work at home mom and the trainer will come over 3 times a week to help them out and make sure he adjusts well and is happy! He will be in the house all the time, but does have access to a fenced yard and will sleep with mom and dad at night (unless the kids get their way and he will sleep in one of their rooms). The family lives right by a lake and he will get to go on many hikes and walks.

Scooby was such a special dog to me that it brought tears to my eyes to read what an absolutely seemingly perfect home he has found. I wanted my little boy to be happy, and I'm sure now that he will.

That leaves only Freddie.

In truth, I am very much looking forward to Freddie's departure. He's a very sweet, very loving little puppy who obviously worships me -- and that's the problem.

He has become very territorial. He loves Walt and runs to the front door to greet him, wagging his tail, jumping up and begging to be petted.

But if he's in my lap and Walt comes to pet him, he growls, snarls, and tries to bite him.

I don't remember when he started being the "King of the Hill." As the smallest of the four dogs, he was always looking up to all of the other dogs, even Scooby.

But one day a week or so ago, he was sitting in my lap when the other three dogs were around and it must have suddenly occurred to him that he was now BIGGER than the other dogs. At least he towered above them. That was the start of what we called "King of the Hill," and which I thought of at first as kind of cute. Whenever any of the other dogs came near him he would suddenly turn into Freddie the Ferocious, and bark and bark and bark.

But then it got serious and he started a fight with Sheila, who could easly eat him in a couple of bites. I tried to get Freddie on his back, in a submissive position and teach him that this was not permitted. That ended that particular fight, but since then, Freddie has been in full challenge mode. He's either in my lap or on my chair and he threatens any of the other dogs that come near him.

Last night, I was sleeping in the recliner, Freddie was sleeping on me and he chased Lizzie out of the family room twice (she usually comes in and joins us, sleeping on the other recliner, but not last night; he wouldn't let her.

So it's time for Freddie to move on to a forever home, and Megan tells me that will probably happen on Monday. This means that both foster dogs will have been adopted before we leave for Santa Barbara, which is great because Ashley, who will be living here, will only have to deal with Sheila and Lizzie and her own dog(s).

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Photos from yesterday's party--all 86 of them, mostly karaoke photos, are available in slide show format here ... and be sure to check the video excerpts (both the "video of the day" and the second video on YouTube, which is much longer)

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NED!!!!

Lifetime Warranty

Freddie decided to use my lovely new red cell phone for a chew toy today. I rescued the phone but didn't realize until too late that the back cover had come off of it and that Freddie was cutting his teeth on it.


I'm taking the phone to Verizon tomorrow, but I don't think it's guaranteed against puppy teeth. They don't give you a lifetime warranty on cell phones.

A lot of products do give you a lifetime warranty, though. Look at a series of these TV product ads, whether for the latest way to clean your floor or the newest doodad to make your kitchen time easier, remove unwanted hair, or to punch sparkly thingies into the material of your leather jacket.

Nine time out of ten, in addition to giving you an extra "whatever" with an additional $30 value item absolutely free, yours to keep whether you want the original product or not, they all tell you that the product has a lifetime warranty.

I want to know what a lifetime warranty is.

Is it MY lifetime? Will they replace a defective item any time between now and my death? If it's my lifetime, can this warranty be transferred to my children upon my death?

And if it's not MY lifetime, than whose? Is it the lifetime of the company which makes the item? How do you determine the lifetime of the item itself? Or is it merely the lifetime of the job of the person you talked to on the telephone.

Has anybody ever tried to cash in on a "lifetime warranty" 10 years after you purchased the handy dandy chop-o-matic?

These are the kinds of issues that keep me awake nights, well, these and wondering what the puppies are going to chew up next.

When we bought the Pergo, it didn't come with a lifetime warranty, but with a 25 year warranty. If we bought the next most expensive brand it came with a 30 year warranty. I told the salesperson that I was 63 years old and that a 25 year warranty would be sufficient!

I decided to do a Google search on "lifetime warranties" and found some interesting stuff.

Something called the X-Arcade comes with the "industry leading lifetime warranty." It reads, "The X-Arcade™ is built to be bulletproof, and so is the warranty that comes with it. Xgaming's Lifetime Warranty covers your X-Arcade™ for LIFE. It’s that simple. No gimmicks, industry leading warranty.

This is a game. An arcade game. And not only does it give you a lifetime warranty, but it's also bulletproof. No wonder I don't go to arcades. Too damn dangerous!

The Kingston corporation offers lifetime warranties on memory modules including ValueRAM, HyperX and Kingston system specific memory, Flash memory cards (e.g. Secure Digital, CompactFlash, MultiMediaCard, SmartMedia) ATA Flash, and Linear Flash; memory expansion-boards, networking adapters; routers, hubs and switches without cooling fans (excluding the power supply), Flash adapters and microprocessor upgrade products. This is good to know because I have Secure Digital cards and a couple that aren't working. If I could remember where (and when) I bought them, it appears I could have them replaced. Damn. I should have planned ahead. But again, there is that "lifetime" name. The camera that I first bought the cards for no longer exists. Does this invaludate my lifetime warranty?

The Aquasana Pure Water System gets a little more specific. It gives you a lifetime warranty for as long as you own the system, without exception. One would assume that you could pass along the lifetime warranty if you sell your house and have all the documentation to give to the new owners. Will this be honored indefinitely, or do they eventually figure out that you must be 100 years old by now and get suspicious?

There is a line of Calphalon bakeware that offers a lifetime warranty (but it's voided if you put your bakeware in the dishwasher).

There is a pool table company that offers a lifetime warranty for the lifetime of its owner (finally--someone who defines "lifetime"). So if you're going to buy a pool table, buy it in the name of your infant son!

Droll Yankees have a bird feeder with a lifetime guarantee that will repair or replace any part of your bird feeder if it is damaged by squirrels.

A jeweler offers a lifetime warranty on all its rings. (How many things can go wrong with a ring?)

A camping supply site offers a lifetime warranty on its bags and defines the warranty thusly: Our products are covered under warranty, to the original owner, for the lifetime of the product. Product lifetime varies due to normal wear. The product's "lifetime" specifically refers to the life of the product, or at such a time that, through normal use, the product can no longer function for the specific purpose intended. (Or in other words, "lifetime" means however long we decide it means!)

We seem to be comforted by the notion that an item has a lifetime warranty. I suspect that the reason why manufacturers are so ready to offer them is that they realize that by the time the item wears out or breaks, we find it too much trouble to locate the original receipt, pay the postage to return it, and get our money back, or a replacement item.

I sure wish Verizon had a lifetime warranty, but then I suspect that I'm not going to be the first person who shows up at a Verizon office with long face, holding out a mangled cell phone and says "the dog ate my phone."

Mr. S Graciously Declines Your Invitation

It's Saturday and that always means a trip to Petco for whichever dogs do not belong to us.

The morning went quietly. Freddie, who, I discovered yesterday, seems to have a fascination for his reflection in the water bowl (see video of the day) seems not to care at all, if the shiny metal bowl is replaced with a plastic one, so I may not have to wade through muck every day after all.

I worked on my review for On the Razzle, which we saw last night. This is the third time I've seen the Tom Stoppard comedy. The first time Paul had the small role of the "randy coachman," a guy who is so sex-obsessed that all he wanted to do was check out women's breasts ("are they round like apples, or pointy like pears?") The object of the coachman's affections is the French Maid, Lisette who was played, in that production, by Marta. They were supposed to engage in a passionate kiss, which was very awkward for both of them, since Marta and Ned were dating at the time. But they both did a fantastic job and that small role still stands out for many people as one of Paul's best, even though he was only on stage for a very brief period of time.

Sadly, the coachman last night didn't have the same sparkle which is a bit awkward, since he's the son of someone I know. He was OK, but not nearly lecherous enough.

But I struggled with how to handle the review, as the puppies slept on my feet.

At about 5 minutes to noon I realized it was time to take the dogs up to Petco and I made a fatal mistake. Freddie was following me, I called him, he came over, I took his collar and I attached a leash.

BUT, Scooby was watching the whole thing, realized that a leash was in his future and he would not come near me for love, money or the treats he loves so much. We tried everything. Walt tried keeping the other dogs away while I tried to lure Scooby with a treat, but the other dogs saw I had a treat in my hand and wouldn't come to Walt, even though he had treats in his hand too. I had three dogs trying to get the treat out of my hand and one dog who was keeping a safe distance.

I lured Scooby to the chair by holding out the treat. I put it just out of reach of his nose and hoped he'd climb up onto my chair, but he was having none of that. He was definitely smarter than I was in this instance! He went outside and found a very old, very stale dog biscuit, carried it inside, turned his back on me and started chewing it. I hate it when dogs are sarcastic.

I tried going into the bathroom, with the idea that I would trap him in there since he usually follows me there, but once he saw the door, he ran the other way. Everywhere I went, he escaped me.

I finally decided I wouldn't try clipping the leash to his collar, I'd just loop it over his head, but he apparently read my mind and after I'd made that decision, he wouldn't come within arm's reach of me (I must perfect my lassoing technique!)

Finally I decided that I would just let him stay home and take Freddie to Petco without him. There is never any interest in Scooby anyway, and it wouldn't kill him to miss a week.

When all the dogs realized I was Going Outside, there was this mash-up at the front door, as everyone wanted to get out. Sheila is generally good about not going outside unless I give her permission, but that doesn't mean she isn't interested, and she's so big that she blocks everyone. Scooby was in the group and Walt was able to grab him and put a leash on him, but when I opened the door, Lizzie, who is NOT good about staying inside, ran out.

Now Lizzie will come whenever I call her, unless she's free outside. But I'm on to her. Instead of calling her to come to me, I call her to get into the car. She will gladly get into the car, and so she did. Hopped right in the car. I usually then grab her in the car and take her into the house, but I decided the heck with it, and let her ride with us to Petco. The last sight I had, as we drove off, was Sheila in the window wondering what happened and why she was all alone.

We couldn't leave Lizzie in the car because it was too hot, and I had no leash because they were all inside, so Walt just pulled up in front of Petco, held Lizzie by her collar and I took the other two out to the pens.

At 3, there was a call from Ashley to come and pick them up. Not surprisingly, neither had been adopted (tho who wouldn't want such cute puppies, I don't know). Scooby hasn't come near me since we came home. He doesn't want to risk my grabbing him again.

And Freddie is back again for another day or two. Given this sexually precocious 4 month old's favorite activity and the amount of excrement he has deposited on the floor, I'm thinking I should have changed his name to Humpy Dumpy.

Canine Cabbies

I feel like we've been running a canine cab service today.

The day started with Walt letting me know it was 7:15. I had overslept, slightly. The new air conditioner/heater people were arriving between 8 and 8:30 and I had planned on getting Lizzie and Sheila to the dog sitter's by 8. We were leaving the house just as the truck was pulling up with our $8,000 new air/heating system. Exciting stuff.

Walt put Lizzie and Sheila in the car, I locked Scooby in the back yard, with access to my office through the dog door, and I went off to the dog sitter's to leave the big dogs. They were ecstatic to see Kathy, whom they seem to genuinely like, and she treats them like part of the family, so I always feel good leaving them with her. It's the next best thing to having Ashley living in your house!

I had an appointment to have my blood checked at Kaiser at 9 a.m., so I drove over there, read my book for awhile and then saw the nurse, who, not surprisingly, recorded a high blood pressure. I assured her that if she went away and came back in 5 minutes it would be lower, and it was. But they prescribed blood pressure medication and I sat at the pharmacy for awhile, holding an Indian mother's baby while she rummaged through products on the shelf. I marveled at how trusting she was because she didn't even look to make sure the baby was still there once she asked me if I'd watch the baby for her.

By the time I returned home, work was in full swing The old a/c unit was in the driveway and there were men running in and out of the house. I locked myself in my office, so Scooby would have somebody to be with and I could work on the article I was writing.

Work was finished around 2 p.m. and the new unit was functioning beautifully and the house was deliciously cool.

It was time for a nap. I sat down with Scooby in my lap and fell asleep. So, apparently, did Walt (without Scooby in his lap). Next thing I knew he was waking me up again, letting me know that it was 5 p.m. and that we were late getting Scooby to the Farmer's Market.

I asked him to come with me to save the time of looking for a parking place when we got there. We packed Scooby in the car and raced to the Farmer's Market and dropped him off with the SPCA. He was being placed in a pen with "Freddie," another foster dog, whose foster mom is going out of town for a few days, and we have volunteered to take Freddie in while she's away. We figured they'd be friends by the time the Farmers Market was over.

It was also an hour later than I'd told the dog sitter that I'd pick up Sheila and Lizzie, so we raced home, got the checkbook and headed out to the sitter's. The dogs were thrilled to see us, and we brought them back home again. One of them threw up on the floor shortly after returning home. I suspect Lizzie, since she seemed a bit out of sorts, but once it had been cleaned up, she seemed none the worse for wear.

No time to worry about that, though. It was time to get Scooby and Freddie from the Farmer's Market. Again, Walt graciously agreed to come with me because parking around the Farmer's Market at that hour is horrendous and he could just double park while I went and got the dogs.

Freddie seems a very nice little guy and he rode well in the car--very happy to sit in my lap and look out the window.

At home, there was the usual chaotic "meet and greet" when a new dog is added into the mix. I tried to capture the flavor of it all with the video of the day. I discovered late in the evening that one thing he likes to do is the paw at water. Maybe it's trying to get to his reflection in the bottom of the water bowl.

But I had steam cleaned the floor the day before, in preparation for the workmen who would be wandering about in here and I wasn't happy to see the floor flooded with dirty water . If he doesn't stop, I may try a non-metallic bowl that has no reflecting bottom and see if that works.

But now it's 12:30 a.m. and it's time to test out the always questionable BEDTIME. I hope he settles in as nicely as the others have done.