drizzly skies

Well, Henry and I had a nice walk in the early morning. No frost today, but it is definitely cap and gloves weather. For my demographic anyway.

 

 

 

I've come to appreciate all the sprawling office spaces, the comfort inns and the like in my neighborhood -- they have grassy fields for my pooch to sniff out. Much better than having him traipse over someone's private lawn. People understandably do not appreciate dead grass where your dog has emptied his bladder. The corporate fields, on the other hand, are so thick from fertilizer and weed killer (all that stuff that then goes to our lakes and creates algae bloom in the summer), that a dog puddle has no impact on the entirety. I'm not on the side of these places that grow lawns. I've never liked them. But at least for Henry, they serve a purpose. 

Breakfast.

It's a quiet day for us. I have an ear out to my daughter -- she is far from well. For some reason the pneumonia hit her especially hard. But I get no calls for assistance, so Henry and I stay home. 

 

 

 

I work on some training: we are up to four minutes of alone time without wailing! We continue with the usual sits and waits and comes and hang backs. 

The drizzle begins early and that's fine -- we still find it easy to go out, often, but for briefer spells. I do not want to go to the doggie park so we play at home. Big dog, small home. It's not the best combination, but it will have to do. For at least nine more months. 

So is my time completely spent now on watching, training, walking, feeding Henry? Sometimes it seems that way, but of course -- this is what I always thought with dogs: they need a lot of your attention when they're young. Henry is an active dog. You can't let him get too bored in life or else he'll go after your slippers. Or worse. By comparison, Goose is a much less demanding animal, content to sleep next to you for a good chunk of the day. What a difference a year makes! Or maybe Henry will always be a more energetic pooch. He sure appears that way now. By afternoon, I sense that he needs a little more action than what he has at the Edge. I take him for yet another walk.

(Three readers highly recommended a harness for walking an active dog... they were so right. Game changer indeed!) 

 

 

And still, after a walk that maxed out the minutes this dog should walk in any one day, he seemed like he needed something more. 

I took him to the little dog exercise area that is part of the Edge. It is padded with quite yukky astroturf. I get it -- a dirt patch of this small size would not work. It would be all mud in a matter of days. But after the day-long drizzle, it smelled of dog pee. I thought of leaving, but then I paused to watch Henry.

He loved it! Someone had left tennis balls and my pooch was thrilled,  running with one, then throwing it in the air for an attempted catch. 

Was he tired after? Well, not exactly. Active dogs dont tire that quickly. I see I am going to be tempted with half-day doggie daycare!

 

Ed comes over this evening for supper, for a Henry walk, and for an overnight.

 

It's really good to have another human with me, one who doesn't need to hear commands to sit and stay. He does it of his own accord. Until tomorrow anyway, when he has to return to the farmette animals.

with so much love... 

Frost!

Outside, there is a layer of hoarfrost. It has always been a big deal at the farmette -- that first day of cold weather, at night, laying down all the annuals in the pots, chilling the air for the first time, transitioning us to the season that follows Fall.

It is exhilarating!  I don't have to take Henry for a long walk this morning, but I want to! I have my cap and gloves on for the first time. I'm warm, he's happy, we're so in step, together on this magnificent morning.

 

I'm rewarded by beautiful colors, radiant in the rising sun.

 

Breakfast.

And then I wait for further instruction. I was to take my daughter's Goose to day care and if he goes, so goes Henry. But I need to know if that's still the plan. We wait.

 

[Ed calls while we wait. Guess who doesn't like it when I talk on the phone with someone?! Do I have a toddler or what?!]

The upshot is that health-wise, my daughter is doing better, though not great yet. Goose is at home with her. Henry and I have the morning to ourselves. I start in on training. Departures: one minute alone without howling. Twice. Oh yeah! Name: definitely responsive to me, but of course, it's just him and me in the room -- no distractions. Commands: good at "back up" in the elevator (would you like a dog lunging to get out when you were trying to get in?), good at "come," almost perfect at "sit,"  and pretty good at "watch me." And as a reward, we go to the off-leash doggie park. Just ten minutes up the road.

I am a tiny bit apprehensive, having had the report from day care that Henry doesn't always listen and can get rambunctious. 

But are we talking about the same dog?? 

Henry was perfect. He came every single time I called. He was playful with one dog, but again, came back to me when I thought he should leave the older dog to his own explorations. 

(time to go home...)

Of course, you could say that this was "first time" behavior. That once he gets comfortable with the park, he'll go wild. And yet, I think that his disposition will lead him in a better direction. There were only two other dogs there, with older owners. One said to me as our pooches sniffed "what a beautiful dog! great markings!"  I beamed in the way proud parents beam, when their child is liked by another.

 

Henry was plenty happy with his walk and his doggie park, and still, I put him in day care for four hours in the afternoon. It's the grandkid pickups that leave me wondering what the best strategy may be. It's really not cool to keep Henry in the car for all those back and forths. It remains a problem especially since his seat belt hasn't arrived yet. (Henry got bounced around a bit today when I had to brake for a sandhill crane crossing the road.) Too, my daughter is still sick and so Goose is on the loose at their house. I dont want the chaos of two dogs there in between the two pickups. In the car, out of the car, wait in the car, out of the car, wait some more in the car, out of the car then to return home -- in the car, out of the car, in the car out of the car. Henry will be fine once I can leave him at home for more than... one minute! Right now, I think he is better off playing with other doggies on these afternoons.

I brought Sparrow home after school and we walked his family's Goose. 

 

 

It's funny how different these animals can be. On paper, you'll read a similar description: good with people, good with children, loves cuddles, lively walking partner, quiet, agreeable. And yet... 

It could be the age -- Henry is much younger. But it's also true that they come with their own set of personality traits, insecurities, assets. For all the leash training that lies ahead for me, I am so grateful that Henry presents no problems in two things that can be a real headache: potty training and destructiveness. (To say nothing of aggression, but then I would never have brought home a dog that has to assert himself with a growl or bark.) Henry is a champion in these areas. 

Goose is, of course, so lovable that he made me reconsider dog ownership. Both canine boys have really big hearts which is surprising given their histories.

 

 

 

We pick up Snowdrop, with Henry still at doggie day care (much to her disappointment).

And toward the end of the day, the three of us drive over to pick up my sweet pup. The kids, once completely "cat people" are now "dog and cat people."  And that's a good thing. More to hug, to love, and be loved right back.

 (pickup joy)

 

 

yep, with so much love... 

 

an October to remember

Did you ever wake up feeling that you finally have embraced all your worrying sticky points, and have strategies to cope with all of them, and your dog is so sweet, and the morning walk with him is so fine...

 

 

 

(um, Henry, where'd you go?)

 

 

... and isn't this a glorious Fall morning to be out and about?

 

 

 

Yeah!

(the Edge, in the morning, in the Fall)

 

Henry is settling into his routines. I can tell. He is excited to go out in the morning, excited to return home, excited to be part of this awesome doggie life of his.

I sit down to breakfast...

...and then crash! I get a text from my daughter. She's sick. There is something seriously wrong with her. She drops Goose off with a neighbor and goes to the clinic. The upshot? She has a horrible case of pneumonia (I'm bewildered: last night we were planning a long walk today with our dogs! When did this happen?!). They called an ambulance. She is in the hospital.

I'm to retrieve Goose from the neighbor's. The plan is to take him to the doggie day care. It's shockingly convenient: my daughter's house is five minutes down the road. The doggie day care is five minutes in the other direction. The kids' schools are close by. I am so grateful for all this! But still, how do I handle everything, with my own pooch suffering all my departures? 

I take him with me in the car's back seat. I shove Goose in the hatchback portion of the car and put on soothing classical music. 

(at the day care, finally)

 

 

I decide to leave Henry there as well. It will be his first visit, but he has a familiar pal along and I need to be dog-free for the chores today: picking up the kids, taking them home, picking up deliveries, taking Goose home and being available in case my daughter needs me.

The daycare is a godsend, but of course, it's DAY care, so the dogs can only stay so long. Kids, at the Edge, somewhat unnerved that quite suddenly their mom is in the hospital.

And then I get the "reverse call" -- they're sending me home! Fantastic. Crisis averted. Or at least things appear to be on the upswing.

With kids in the car, excited at reclaiming not one but two students of doggie day care, I drive to pick up Goose and Henry. Of course, I get a report card on his first day: he was good, but he doesn't seem to know his name... True enough, Henry has only been Henry for about a week! He got a little rambunctious once or twice, but otherwise he was fine! I felt like the parent of a kid who was standing next to the class genius -- Goose. Mine? Oh, just fine. I was looking for words that would describe my pup as a sweet and lovable dog as I know him -- full of heart, gentle and smart. Oh well. I used his name a lot for the rest of the evening. 

Henry comes back to the Edge with me exhausted. No kidding, buddy!

Hungry Henry. He is such a dynamic eater that I have to resort to the newest slow-down bowl. (What will they think of next...)

 

 

 

I'm hoping I have no more urgent calls or texts tonight. Really, in this case, no news will be good news. Right, Henry?

with so much love...

 

Oh Henry, not the candy bar

Henry, the rescue dog I adopted last weekend, is everything you might expect from a seven month old lab-retriever-whatever mix: affectionate, exuberant, smart, playful, energetic. It is true that he has a good off switch: he can go from pup crazy, to calm and couch happy in the space of a few minutes. But I found out this morning just how pup crazy a big dog of his weight and stature can be.

He woke up a bit earlier and was really nudging me to get moving. Not a problem: he appears to recognize the need to give signals when he wants to go out. Potty training has been (knock on wood) a breeze.

It's still not light out there. Sunrise is at 7:20 today. We're out before that. I can control him alright when he is sniffing the grassy strips that line our sidewalks. Not that he is leash trained, but I have enough tug in me to pull him back.

But then we came to a field with meadow grasses. I had walked here yesterday and I knew he liked it. His nose would dig into the ground and then he'd leap for joy. Today, he did more than leap for joy: he went pup-nuts, running, leaping, all of it. I am strong, but I realized that he is actually stronger. I pulled him away from the field.

To those who would suggest leash training -- yes, he's signed up. But I can't wait that long. This dog needs to save his energy for doggie parks (I registered him for that as well). A reader had suggested a harness: I'm on it!  My exuberant, energetic young boy! Oh, Henry!

Breakfast - he is nice and calm, as always, while I eat at the counter.

I have to say, he and I are at war as to who gets the best spot on the couch. Oftentimes, he beats me to it!

Today is my day to take him to the farmette. This is both wonderful and challenging. The cats, yes, the cats. The chickens - uff, that. But, too, it's a new place and I want him to feel comfortable there. Does he manage the visit well?

Yes, though it was an adventure. There were many surprises and some predictable outcomes. Let's start with the predictables: we entered the farmhouse, Dance the cat came down from her nap, saw Henry and went right back upstairs, not to return the whole time we were there. 

Another predictable: Henry remembered and loved Ed.

And one I should have anticipated but did not. At least not in the way it played out. Henry loved the farmette lands. Here's my mistake: I put him on a retractable leash so he could romp. And romp he did!

At times I thought they got his markings wrong. He looked like one of those greyhounds painted on a bus. He is both fast and strong and it was hard to get him to tone down his crazies. My huggable pup has a split personality! In the wild, he is wild! At home, he is the sweetest dog on the planet.

I tried to put in a few bulbs. I got twelve in, but it was a challenge. A huge challenge. I kept Henry out on a leash. He got tangled in it repeatedly. Indeed he got tangled in the bushes, the spent flowers too. And once he figured out I was digging (with my one free hand), he joined in the act -- digging up what I had planted. I gave up then and went inside, exhausted.

 

 

 

(no more retractable leash at the farmette until you learn to respond consistently to my words)

I saved for the last the most unpredictable event of all: do you remember the porch feral, Pancake? Ed claims that over the past year, he's gotten more mellow, especially after being neutered. My answer has always been -- then how come Dance is still scared of him? So, enter Henry. The dog was all excited to chase chickens, but I put a stop to that and in any event, they knew to scamper off. He was not especially interested in chasing cats. He reached out to Pancake, to sniff, to form a connection. Unlike Dance, Pancake was not intimidated. Pancake got into his "I'm totally going to attack this damn dog" mode and stayed in it until we left. When Henry and I went out, he followed, waiting for his moment.

And when he failed, because I was there to scare him off, he took out his aggression on the other poor cats, hissing and spitting at them for no reason that they or I could figure out. I told Ed that life would be easier at the farmette for everyone if that cat was placed in a shelter, but of course, Ed wont do that. Give up on an animal? Not him. Like with trees, he believes there's room for them all. 

In all, Henry loved his visit and got some great exercise out of the deal. The house isn't dog proofed, and he picked up odds and ends that were strewn about for cats, or for no good reason, but he survived! And I survived. I had a few good minutes sitting on top of Ed's feet on the couch (a favorite place of mine from farmhouse days), but otherwise, I was spent. I earned my couch time at the Edge. And so did Henry.

 

We had to head out again soon after, because no parent was available to pick up Snowdrop at school.

(happy to see Henry)

When I dropped her at her house, the family was back and Goose was there as well, so we let the two dogs play off-leash inside.

It was mostly a good bonding.

I say mostly because these two young dogs are still getting to know each other. There's some testing going on as well. (I'm looking at you, Henry!) Still, they appear to have no problem being "related." Or BFFs. Or cousins. No, maybe grandcousins?

Evening. I listen to the winners of the Chopin Competition in their Gala celebratory performance. (Henry sleeps through the best parts!) As you know from my previous post, my favorite Tianyao Lyu came in fourth (tied), but there were five additional awards handed out and she picked up two of them: the Warsaw Philharmonic Award for the best performance of a Concerto, and Fryderyk Chopin Society Award for the best performance of a Polonaise. 

There is a beautiful sunset outside. I'd take a picture for you, but Henry is snuggled close to me and I know that if I get up, he will follow me. He always does. Big dog, huge heart. Lots of energy. Oh, Henry!

with lots of love... 

 

the day begins with Henry

My mother, in her last years of life, used to complain how much she did not want to leave her warm bed in the morning to make it down to breakfast. Of course, it's not as if she had to do it. Many residents of her Assisted Living home didn't bother. She could get tea anytime on her floor. The staff would bring up a tray if she asked for it. Cereal and fruit were abundantly available. She knew or liked no one in the dining room. Indeed for a while, she was partnered with a person for whom she had no kind words. And yet she went. Every morning, without fail.

Just a month ago, my morning routines were equally fixed. Feed the three farmhouse cats, walk to the barn, open the coop, feed the chickens, then go on and take care of the sheep shed cats. Along the way -- pick weeds and take garden photos. Routinely.

And then I moved to the Edge and suddenly I had no morning routine. And I liked that! Not getting up the minute I woke up... Sitting down to breakfast early or late, at the counter, on the couch, with a book or my laptop.

And yet, I missed the obligatory morning walk. Sure, I could still take a walk, but that just felt dutiful. A walk for no good reason. Indeed, all walks began to feel dutiful. I should walk, so I walked. But most often, I no longer witnessed an early morning. I no longer cared about the weather. My cozy spot on the couch was lovely. I rarely wanted to leave it. And suddenly, now, it's also his favorite spot.

Henry's arrival (Sunday eve) changed everything. I was ready for it and still, I'm panting.  

The night is good. If I get up, he'll get up too and watch me until I'm back in bed. Then he returns to his. His wake up time appears to be exactly the same as mine -- just before 7:30.  He is raring to go then and I hurry because I am still mindful of the fact that he may not be potty trained. So far so good, let's keep it that way.

And so now I care about the weather once again. And I witness autumn, even in this rather odd neighborhood. 

Henry is my new subject of photographic interest. As you've probably noticed over the years, I get wrapped up in themes. Lilies, crab apple, grandkids, Ed and breakfast. To me, it all looks different each time I pick up my camera to shoot. 

The morning walk now is a longer one: at least 30 minutes, following the labrador walking schedule. (He needs 35 mins twice a day at his age).

He is at his liveliest and most exuberant mood now. It's at once beautiful and difficult. Controlling a lively young lab/retriever takes skill, patience and strength. He can easily dance his way around my legs and do things he knows by now he shouldn't do  (for example, chew on his leash). Still, I am not running away from a challenge. I expected it.

Today, I eat breakfast...

.. Tidy up some, and then head out. We have an appointment, Henry and I, at the shop and pet grooming service downtown. I wanted him bathed and his nails trimmed and ears cleaned professionally and they do a fantastic job. And yes, he was scared of the hose, scared of the hair dryer, but his reaction to being scared is to shake rather than aggress. 

He doesn't look any different, right? But he feels different! Clean and not clammy. Shiny and not matty. In the hour when they had him, I went to the grocery store. My list was long because I dont know when my next store trip will take place. I'm trying not to leave him alone if I can help it. He has very modest anxiety at this point. I dont want it to get worse.

Bringing up eight bags of groceries requires two trips up from the garage. I leave him alone for the second one, and he is fine with that. For one thing, he's really ready for a nap. On the couch, of course. I put on Chopin, the winning contestant, all his played pieces, from the Competition.

This is how you can easily fill a day looking after a dog. A pooch that depends on you for everything: food and shelter of course, but that is the easy part. Stimulation, education, love. There aren't others to distract him. His eyes are always on me. Without doubt, he is my Henry. 

In the afternoon I do have to pick up Snowdrop. Hers is a quick trip -- maybe twenty-five minutes total, if she begs to stop for small Culver's fries. (Her favorite -- she gets them once a week.)  Should I bring Henry? I'm feeling less great about it since I haven't any car protection for him yet (a doggie seat belt is coming!). Just in case, I crate him. He doesn't mind the crate. I put in a favorite chewy and close the gate and head for the door. This is when the howling and wailing starts. This quiet dog does not want to be left alone. Well, he doesn't have a choice. I stay and talk to him for a few minutes, then I leave.

(Snowdrop, with a friend: no way does she want me out of the car greeting her)

 

As we wait for Snowdrop's fries, I get a call from the management at the Edge. Your upstairs neighbor, she's not really complaining (ha!), but she says the dog is wailing like in pain. I explained to her that you have a pup... (This, by the way, is the same neighbor whose sex life I can track, rare that it is!)

My quiet dog has decided to fuss when I step outside. 

But of course, by the time we return, all is calm. No noise. Henry is waiting patiently. Still, I know he will do it again. And I know if I cave to him, he'll never stop doing it.

(Snowdrop really loves these dogs... a blur of affection...)

 

After I drop her off in the evening, I take Henry and go over to the office at the Edge. The manager, her assistant -- both are there. Henry doesn't like the floor in the lobby (honestly!). He refuses to follow me to the office. I stand between the door and the office door and ask the manager for advice. I dont want to disturb neighbors, but I also do not want Henry to get his way on being left alone.

So let me describe to you how these people function here. David, the assistant manager sits down on the floor with Henry and coaxes him over. An older resident walks over, sits down and talks gently to Henry. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a treat. Heidi, the manager comes out too. Henry is surrounded by warm friendly people. He relaxes. I relax. We will work this out. 

That's the kind of place this is. I am lucky. Henry is lucky. 

 

And in the evening, it's just Henry and me. Ed asks if I am less lonely with him by my side. I think that's a silly question. I surely am preoccupied with Henry. Less focused on myself. I like that. At the same time, Ed's companionship cannot be substituted by a dog. Henry was never going to be a replacement for Ed (in the time we are still thinking about what's next). If you have another child, you'll still miss the one who left home. That's obvious, isn't it? But, Henry reminds me that a life worth living is one that involves being able to care. Sure, as you age, your capacity to be of service declines. For example, I could not play with a toddler now in the way I could ten years ago. So you reassess and find ways where you can still challenge yourself to focus on the needs of someone else. Not out of duty, but with joy. And yes, I can do that for Henry. Just please, pooch! Learn the command SLOWLY in the next few weeks or months. You can do it and I'll thank you for it!

with so much love...